Who Can Hear a Lousy Whistle Blow?
by peculiarjuliar
Summary: Tubas, jerkheads, and eggplants, oh my! CMC Senior Band and Choir Week is always full of craziness and cliques, and oh! sometimes music! It's a place where friendships are forged, enemies are made, and new skills are acquired. Yes, this is a Newsie fic!
1. Day 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsies. I do not even own most of OCs in this fic, seeing how the majority of them are based off of real people.**

_**A/N:**__ I've been toying with the idea for this story for a while now. There will be seven chapters, plus an epilogue. I am still writing my other fic, "Jigsaw" – don't worry, I'm just taking a short break from it. Please review OTAMC and I hope you enjoy._

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**Day 1 – Sunday 10:30 am**

"What would you like to take for Elective A?"

I studied the sheet of paper in front of me, running my finger down the list of classes I could take. The electives offered were: Beginning Music Theory, Beginning Piano Lab, Didgeridoo Choir, and Conducting. Not much of a selection, seeing how I had already taken Advanced Music Theory at my school, played the piano adequately, and had absolutely no interest in learning the didgeridoo.

"I'll take Conducting, I guess."

The lady behind the first computer nodded and typed a few things into the keyboard before sliding my name card to the next elective booth.

"What would you like for Elective B?" asks the balding man assigned to that spot.

I checked the paper again. My options: Beginning Music Theory, Beginning Piano Lab, and Yoga. God, what was wrong with these people?

"Put me down for the Piano Lab," I said, reasoning that I could at least tinker around on the piano instead of playing stupid scales.

Type. Type. Click. The man passed my card down to the last station.

"What do you want for Elective C?"

"Is there anything open other than Music Theory and Yoga?"

The young man behind the desk smiled, "Yeah, we have crappy electives, sorry about that." He looked at his computer screen before adding, "There's Beginning Music History and Jazz Improvisation available during Elective C. Are you interested in one of those?"

"I'll go with the Music History."

"Not a Jazz person?"

I shook my head. "I love Jazz, but there's not much out there for jazz bassoonists."

"Ah, a low double-reedist. That's cool." He entered something into the computer and handed me back my id card along with a couple pieces of paper. "Here's a map to the dorm, the final schedules for the next week, and a list of all the electives, their instructors, and their locations. We have an all-camp meeting here in the concert hall at 12:10pm. Bring your instrument. Following that meeting are seating auditions. You're free till the meeting to unpack, get lunch – though we're not providing lunch, but you can buy it at the dining hall – practice, and just relax. Good luck."

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**12:00 Noon**

The concert hall was nearly empty as I strolled through the aisles and picked a seat up toward the front in the middle. True, the meeting didn't start for another ten minutes, but I had run out of things to do. I had checked into my dorm room, hauled my entire luggage up three flights of stairs, unpacked, and finally left to go eat -- never meeting my roommate, who was obviously running late. After wandering around campus doing nothing, I finally headed over to the meeting, early.

More people were arriving now, all grouped in their little cliques. No one sat by me, or even looked at me. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I resigned myself to a week of camp with no friends. I had told my parents that would happen. I had told them that I didn't want to come. But no, they said camp wasn't about friends, it was about the amazing musical experience I would be getting. Well, maybe that's what it was to them, and for me to an extent, but I didn't relish being the camp loner, either.

Two Asian kids plopped down in the seats to my right and started chattering in another language, never sparing me a single glance. I fumbled in my pocket for some gum and tried to ignore that fact that everyone was ignoring me. Eventually a man with graying hair climbed onto the stage and took the mic.

"Welcome to Coughren Music Camp 2007 - Senior Band and Choir Week. I am Joe Pulitzer, director of the camp, and I'm going to fill you in on some rules, go over today's schedule with you, and introduce the faculty of CMC. This is CMC's 12th year, and we actually have some original staff still with us. I'd like to introduce Mayer and Esther Jacobs, who have been with CMC since the beginning. Mayer is the director of our Jazz Ensembles and is head male counselor; his wife, Esther, is director of the Jazz Choir and is head female counselor. A big hand for them, please, twelve years of dedicated service. Next we have the directors of our concert and symphonic bands, Mr. Weasel and Mr. Denton, who have been with us for several years, as well. Then we have Ms. Larkson, director of our chamber choir and camp chorus. Directing our orchestra, we have a new faculty member, Mr. Snyder. Next up, we have …"

I zoned out as the list continued and Pulitzer moved on to a list of rules and then the schedule for the rest of the day. Finally I heard the word "auditions" and perked up.

"We'll call your instrument and I'd like you to please follow the counselor assigned to the group to the audition area. Please leave your cases here in the concert hall! After your seating audition is over, you may go back to your dorm or hang out at the arcade. Dinner is provided, as will all your meals be from now till lunch on Saturday. After dinner the seating lists will be posted. Please check those so you can know which band you are in because we _do_ have a rehearsal tonight! Alright, let's start with violins. All violins come to the front and follow Whitney to your audition area."

Someone got up behind me, jolting my chair horribly. I turned to see a rather short guy with dirty blonde hair pushing his way down the row holding a violin case above his head.

"Watch it, Spot!" hissed the girl on the end as he stepped on her toes.

"Shut up, Erika," was his answer.

All the rest of the strings were called as I grew exceedingly more nervous. Then the brass were called. Piano students, vocal students, and finally the woodwinds.

"Oboes and bassoons are with Sam. All oboes and bassoons please come down to the front."

I hoisted my giant case over my head and headed for the stage. Sam said hello and led us down into the basement to a room where we could warm up while others were auditioning. I opened my case and began putting my bassoon together.

"I'll hear the oboes first, so agree on an order and I'll be ready to get started in about five minutes."

As the oboes began arguing amongst each other as to who should play first, a young man approached me, a large bassoon reed protruding from between his lips like a fat cigar.

"Hey there, what's your name?"

I finished attaching my bocal into my bassoon before answering. "Julia. What's yours."

"Tony, though all my friends call me Race."

"How long have you been playing the bassoon?"

"Seven years."

I whistle. "Wow. I've been playing for a grand total of two."

"It's your first time here at CMC." It wasn't a question, rather a sure statement.

"That's right."

"I've been here for five years. This place is awesome. What's your audition piece?"

"Uh, _Berceuse_ from Stravinsky's _Firebird_."

"Yeah, that solo's real nice."

"What's yours?"

"Stravinsky's _Rite of Spring_."

"Impressive."

"I know."

Tony wandered off to warm up, and I got out my music to run over it one more time. I was so nervous.

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**5:30 PM**

So, I survived my audition with out passing out or absolutely botching it, though I still don't know how. Sam was nice, but kept looking over my shoulder at my music the whole time, which really freaked me out.

Anyway, there was no use dwelling on what already happened, so I went to dinner. That was, in one word, uneventful. Everyone else seemed to already know people, having met them during previous summers or come with them from home. I sat by myself in a corner trying to be patient about finding out how I place in the audition. I kept telling myself that it didn't matter, not that it helped.

After I had successfully mutilated and killed my salad and pasta, I returned my tray and set out in a run to the IRH (Instrument Rehearsal Hall) where the results would be posted.

"Oh my god! There's no way that bitch placed higher than me!"

A short girl with fake blonde hair was standing, hands on hips, violin case swinging over her shoulder, glaring furiously at the lists on the wall. "She can't play!"

I edged my way past her and found the bassoon list.

_Symphonic Band_

_Tony Higgins_

_Julia Michaels_

_Alex Parker_

_Richard Albin_

_Concert Band_

_Joe Severance_

_Drew Vanorden_

_Noah Steirli_

_Kevin Bray_

_Chris Youngling_

_Orchestra_

_Tony Higgins_

_Julia Michaels_

"Oh my god, I did it."

"Congrats."

I turned around to see a girl with reddy-auburn hair smiling at me.

"You must be Julia."

I frowned, "How'd you know?"

"There's only one girl on that list. I wasn't sure whether to feel sorry for you or not. I mean, one girl and nine guys."

Grinning, I crossed my arms on my chest. "So what are you?"

"Trombone. Rachel. Nice to meet you."

"So Rachel, what seat did you get?"

"2nd in Symphonic and Orchestra."

"Congrats to you too, then."

"Yes, well, I'd be a lot happier if Oscar Delancey wasn't 1st chair Trombone, making him my standmate."

"What's his problem?"

"He's a jerkface."

"I see."

"What floor are you on, Julia?"

"Third."

"Same here."

"Really? What room?"

"318."

"Oh, I'm 323."

"Have you met your roommate yet?"

"No, you?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I don't want to go starting my week on a sour note, but she's crazy."

"What's she?"

"Percussion."

"Ah, well that explains it."

"I try not to use instrumental stereotypes, but this one seems to fit."

"I'll probably end up with a dedicated string player who practices till insane hours of the morning."

"I'll trade you."

"Yeah, sure thing."

"They normally put you with another of your instrument, but seeing how you're the only female bassoon, you've got a problem."

"Speaking of bassoons, I need to fetch mine from my room."

"I'll come with you and pick up my bone at the same time."

"Sure thing."

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**7:00 PM**

"Alright, that's enough. Now horns, that lovely counter-melody you have, four after ninety-three; could you play it more warm and – think honey and peanut butter: _ta ta dee da dum_. Alright? Let's begin again at fifty-four, measure fifty-four everyone."

I had decided within the first five minutes of rehearsal that I liked Dr. Bryan Denton much better than my own band director. He was fun and really knew his stuff.

"Remember, '_you come to rehearsal to learn the other peoples' parts._' Write these down, by the way, and maybe you can compile a book someday and make lots of money off me."

Tony snorted in the chair next to me, a smirk flickering on his lips. "My first year I wrote them all down. He'll come up with a huge long list of them by the end of the week, believe me."

I smiled briefly and rearranged my music. Even though Tony was extremely friendly, I was feeling rather uncomfortable talking to him because he was such a good bassoonist. The gap between our levels was enormous, and there were several times during a piece where I'd want to stop playing just so I could hear his tone and phrasing. It made things awkward afterwards when a conversation was attempted, to say the least.

"Hands to yourselves, bones. And tenors, a little sharper at section L – _da da da dee da_!"

"Dr. Denton, third measure of L, second sixteenth note – is that supposed to be an e-natural or an e-flat?"

I peered back over my shoulder, recognizing the voice. It was the younger guy from the elective tables. It surprised me that he was a high school student, but then again, a lot of the kids here looked older than they were.

"Hold on a moment, let me check my score. Um, that should be an e-natural, David. Thanks for pointing that out."

Pencils scratched in the tenor sax section for a moment before Dr. Denton raised his arms.

"Twelve before L, twelve before L."

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**9:30 PM**

"My lips are completely numb. I haven't exactly been keeping up on my practicing this summer," Rachel said as she massaged her mouth as we sat together waiting for our female dorm meeting to begin.

"Same here, I hadn't touched my bassoon since school ended, and gosh my embouchure is dead!"

The sound of someone clapping caught our attention and we looked to the front of the room where one of the counselors stood on the makeshift stage in the female dorm lounge.

"Excuse me for ending your chatter time, ladies, but we need to get down to business. I am Esther Jacobs, Mr. Pulitzer introduced my husband, Mayer, and me earlier today. I am the head female counselor, I teach the Jazz Choir, and I'm usually a pretty nice person, however if you break rules or interrupt my sleep by showering before six in the morning, I am a very scary person, just ask my kids."

"Do her kids go here?" I whispered to Rachel.

"You bet," she answered back softly.

"I'd like to introduce our first counselor – this is her first year counseling here though she attended this camp all throughout high school – she also happens to be my daughter, Sarah Jacobs."

I nudged Rachel with my shoulder, "I see now."

"And next we have…"

I zoned out for the second time that day and focused on my growing dread of going back to my room in fear of meeting my roommate. I just knew she and I wouldn't get along. I just knew it.

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**10:15 PM**

"See you tomorrow, Julia. Breakfast at seven?"

"Sure thing. G'night!"

Rachel disappeared into her room and I fiddled around my neck for my key as I walked the few feet down the hall to my room. With a prayer, I unlocked the door and walked in. No one was there, though a large green suitcase now occupied the second side of the room. I stared at it, as if it would tell me what type of person this mysterious roommate of mine was. Needless to say, it didn't.

With a sigh, I changed into my pajamas and crawled into my bed. Lights out wasn't till eleven, but I was exhausted. I rolled over and set my alarm for six-thirty in the morning so I would have time to shower, and then I pulled my covers over my head. My roommate was still not back, and I wasn't waiting any longer. She could turn the light off when she finally got in, whenever that would be.

My first day of camp was over, and I had lived. Tomorrow, of course, would be a different story entirely.

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_**A/N: **__This fic is quite a bit different from what I usually write, so feedback is greatly appreciated. So, REVIEW!_

_-- pj_


	2. Day 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsies. I do not even own most of OCs in this fic, seeing how the majority of them are based off of real people.**

_**A/N:**__ I apologize for the long wait, my baby brother passed away last week so I've been rather preoccupied. I really don't know how long this story will take me; I might be too busy to write very much for the next several weeks until my life gets back to normal. I'll try to keep up, and I do plan on finishing this fic, it just may take a while. Bear with me, please. _

_And thanks to my three reviewers so far: burnt-mufn, Tifabee, and Racerchick. As always, reviews are extremely important to me, not only for the encouragement but also the corrective criticism. _

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Day 2 – Monday 

**5:23 am**

_Pluck. Pluck. Thwump thwump. Pluck pluck pluck pluck. Thwump!_

What the heck? I cracked open my eyes to see the pale brown of my blanket in the dim light.

_Pluck pluck pluck. Thwump thwump. Thwump pluck pluck._

Throwing off my covers, I glared in the direction of the noise.

"Not a morning person, I see," a shrill voice said from across the room.

I turned on my lamp and surveyed my new roommate. Perched on her bed, near the window, wearing rose-colored pajamas, and holding a violin in one hand, the girl ran the other through her fake blonde hair.

"Yeah, that would be a no."

"So I figured," and she went back to finger-combing her hair.

"I'm Julia, by the way," I offered after a long absence of speech.

"Hilary."

"So, Hilary, what are you doing up this early?"

She gave me a withering look and then smiled with obvious displeasure. "There's this one bitch who placed higher than me, even though she didn't deserve to, and I'm mastering our pieces so I can show her exactly how awful and untalented a player she is."

I stared in shock. "You're kidding, right?"

"Do I look like the type to pull your leg?"

I didn't answer that, just continued looking at her in disbelief. Hilary lifted her instrument and began plucking furiously away at her violin strings again and marking in bowing notes on her music.

Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I would not be getting anymore sleep and reached over and turned off my alarm that was set to go off at six-thirty. Esther Jacobs had said no showers before six, so that option was out, but I didn't know how much longer I could take just sitting in the room listening to Hilary killing her fingertips.

I finally decided to get out my reed making kit and work on some of my blank reeds. That took some time, including three excursions to the bathroom for hot water to soak the cane in. By the time six rolled around, I had whittled one of the blanks into formidable shape and sound. Feeling better from the productivity, I put the reed in my reed case and left the rest to soak for the day. Then I grabbed my bathrobe and shower bag and exited the room, calling back over my shoulder as I went, "Have fun with that practicing, Hil!"

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**7:05 am**

"Morning Julia, met your roommate yet?"

"Yes, and I don't want to talk about her."

"That bad, huh?"

"Awful. Overachiever. Rude. Evil. Cruel-hearted."

"She can't be all that bad!"

"Yes, she can."

"How so?"

"Do you know who the third-seat violin is?"

"No, but I do know that Spot is concertmaster."

"Spot?"

"Sebastian Conlon, more commonly known as Spot, punk-looking kid, real short and skinny?"

"Ah…"

"Yeah, but third-seat? I have no clue."

"Well, she's female."

"And she's your roommate?"

"No, she's my roommate's arch-nemesis."

"Ah…"

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, please."

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**12:10 pm**

My eight o'clock symphonic band rehearsal went well, as did my bassoon master class that followed at eleven – though Tony showed us all up horribly. We played bassoon quartets, including an interesting arrangement called _"I'm a Teenage Bassoonist"_ which sounded like a 50's rock piece (only with four bassoons instead of an actual band). After that, I met up with Rachel and a new acquaintance of her's, Paul – the 3rd seat trombone -- and we headed for lunch.

So there I was in the dining hall, adding the finishing touches to my salad and hot dog, and recalling how miserable my meal had been the day before. I picked up my tray and made my way back to the table that our trio had claimed, only to find that it was already populated by several new bodies, though the chairs on either side of Rachel were still vacant.

"Julia, over here," Rachel patted the seat on her left and I took it, still confused as to who the crowd all was.

"Heya, Julia," drawled a familiar voice, and I looked over to see Tony sitting across from me. At least I knew someone else!

"So Julia, let me introduce you to the gang. On your left is Grant (more commonly known as Mush), then Brenton (or Specs, as we call him), then Erika (she's just Erika), then Cooper (or Snitch), Tony (Race, who you, of course, already know), Layla (again, just Layla – we girls prefer no nicknames), Paul (or, as the guys have just dubbed him, Dutchy), and lastly – dare I say it when he's present? – Sebastian (though you'll be much safer calling him Spot or Conlon, because he _will_ kill you if you call him Sebastian)," she paused and took a breath, "We're missing a few folks, but I'll introduce them when they bother to show up. Everyone, this is Julia."

Choruses of "hi's" and "whazzups" hit me, and I attempted a smile despite the fact that my brain was whirling at a hundred miles per hour trying to remember and process all the names and faces.

"So, Julia, what do you play," asked – I believe it was Grant – on my left.

"Uh, Bassoon."

"Cool. Oh, you must be the girl Tony's been talking about."

I froze. "What?"

"Well, he's been complaining about how all his fellow bassoons this year can't play, 'except for the chick' he says."

"Oh." I glanced over at Tony, who was munching on a celery stick and enjoying a debate over phrasing interpretation of a Mozart Concerto with Spot Conlon. Deciding to change the subject, I asked, "So, - Grant, was it? – what do you play?"

"Cello, 3rd seat. I'm happy, last year I was 7th. And besides, the 1st and 2nd chairs are hecka awesome, not to mention that the 2nd seat is really hot."

"I see. And how about you?" I asked the guy to Grant's left.

Grant grinned and playfully punched him on the arm. "This here is a Vocal dude. Sings tenor cause he isn't cool enough to actually play one, right Specs?"

Specs rolled his eyes. "Yes Mush, you're right, all I've truly wanted in life is to suck on a saxophone mouthpiece and annoy the crap out of David Jacobs, but I'm not cool enough to do so."

"He admits the fact from his own mouth, you see," Grant exclaimed gleefully to me.

I laughed.

"Speak of the devil," Specs said suddenly as I sensed someone come up behind me.

"Julia, I'd like you to meet David. David, Julia," Rachel announced as the guy from the elective tables slid into the empty chair to her right.

"Bassoonist, right?"

"Yeah. And you're tenor sax?"

"Uh-huh."

"And also the Walking Mouth," chimed in someone from the other side of the table.

"The Walking Mouth?" I questioned.

"His parents pretty much own the camp – you know, Mayer and Esther Jacobs?" explained Rachel. "They're the head counselors and Jazz experts. Therefore, it's only natural that he can spout just about every rule and regulation…"

"Every rehearsal time…" butted in Spot.

"Every special event…" Grant added.

"And the codes to file them under…" grinned Tony.

"…that CMC has ever created," finished a newcomer who was standing with a smirk on his face.

"Heya Jack!" went up the rounds of greetings.

"What took you so long, Cowboy?" asked David.

"Nothing. Just some freaky chick followed me trying to tell me I was playing my part wrong in band. She wasn't even a tuba!"

"What was she?"

"How should I know?"

"Was she hot?"

"Grant!" I admonished without even thinking.

He grinned, "Well, I want to know!"

"I guess," Jack decided, his face all screwed up in thought.

"Well, she's probably a trumpet," put in Rachel. "I'm the only female trombone in symphonic, unfortunately."

"Hey," began David, "if Oscar is bothering you again, just let me know, and I'll tell my dad. If he so much as –"

"I know, I know. Don't worry, David, I'm fine."

"Just checking. And for goodness sake, Jack, are you going to eat or not?"

"Nah, I'll grab some pizza on the way out – that stupid chick took up way too much time – lunch is almost over."

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**1:00 pm**

Whereas I had found Dr. Denton to be an interesting and good conductor, I found Dr. Snyder most certainly rigid and hard to follow. Not only that, but he seemed to purposefully pick on the members of Rachel's clique, always calling on them to give demonstrations of the most difficult passages and then rebuking them for the slightest mistake.

"Mr. Meyers, quit talking to the poor 2nd chair, and play for us, solo, beginning at letter E. Now."

I strained my neck to see past the tall oboist in front of me until I could make out Grant's surprised face in the second row.

"Sir, we just got this music a half hour ago."

"That shouldn't make a difference, after all, you're 3rd chair. In _theory_ that means you are supposed to be a talented musician."

After Grant's painful attempt to play the section – and Snyder's tirade against uncommitted, untalented, good-for-nothing bums who had no common courtesy towards others and who should be moved to the back row, last seat, due to poor performance skills – we moved on to the next piece.

Snyder's eyes flickered about the group, lingering on certain people with a flare of extreme dislike. Every time he looked my way I started shaking.

"You there, bassoon, play for me, solo, at box 12."

It took me a moment to realize he was addressing Tony, not myself. Tony returned Snyder's scathing glare and re-wet his reed. Then after a quick breath, he began to play.

Needless to say, he played the entire section flawlessly, and finished to the cheers of his friends and many others. Snyder, however, was not pleased. He scowled at Tony and then his gaze shifted to me.

"Now let's hear the 2nd bassoon at the same place."

My eyes grew large and my hands felt suddenly clammy.

"Now, 2nd bassoon. I don't have all day, so stop wasting my time!"

I took a very long and deep breath, lifted my bassoon and started at box 12. My part was lower than Tony's but I tried to mimic his phrasing. I missed several accidentals in the first line, and then totally botched the second. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I stopped playing, and Snyder smiled almost sinisterly.

"The quality of the entire section reflects on the section leader, not just his own skill, Mr. Higgins. Therefore, you've done very poorly indeed."

Squeezing my eyelids shut, I wished I could be home in my bed away from all these people. Just when I was starting to have fun and make friends I had to blow it like that.

"Everyone, box 12 – except the bassoons. I think they need to practice a bit more before they can join our rehearsal tomorrow."

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**3:45 pm**

I kept my eyes glued to my notes in front of me, as Mr. Kloppman – the piano instructor and music history teacher – paced about, explaining the origins of music. After my horrible experience in orchestra, I had taken my bassoon and case into the ladies restroom to avoid speaking with Tony. While I was there in the handicapped stall, packing up my instrument on the diaper-changing table, I replayed the humiliating scene over and over and knew I could never face Tony again. I waited in the bathroom for as long as I dared before scurrying to my C elective(since I made orchestra I no longer had to take my first two electives, which was fine with me).

Kloppman had already started class when I showed up, and to my dismay, Tony was apparently enrolled in the Music History elective as well. I took the farthest vacant seat from him as possible, and then buried my face in my notebook.

As soon as class was over, I slammed my book shut, slung my case over my shoulder and hurried out of the room. I could hear Tony call my name, but I didn't stop or slow down. Camp Chorus was next – that was sure to be a fun and embarrassing experience as well. I followed the flow of traffic into the IRH building and let myself be herded into a group of females.

"What are we?" I asked.

"Altos," said a girl with black pigtails.

"Okay."

It was a while before everyone was in place and a brightly dressed woman – Ms. Medda Larkson, if I remembered correctly – seated herself at the piano.

"Sing after me, darlings!"

And off she went singing a group of pitches. We copied, and she gave us another set.

"Now put them together!"

We did and she gave us another. Pretty soon we were singing an entire tune using solfege and had memorized it without even noticing.

"Congratulations, my dears. Now we'll learn the words!"

Though her methods were odd, I decided that I liked Ms. Larkson. I also decided that I liked Camp Chorus a lot better than orchestra because I was just one girl in a sea of altos, and with little chance of making an absolute idiot of myself.

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**5:30 pm**

"Rachel," I panted as I caught up to her. "I'm going to sit with some of my Camp Chorus buddies for dinner, is that alright?"

She nodded, "Of course that's alright, you don't need to feel pressured to eat with us all the time!"

"Okay, see you at the concert tonight."

"Yeah, save me a seat, I'll probably in at the last moment. And Julia, so you know, if you ever need to talk with someone, I'm right here."

I gulped and watched her join David and Grant in the dinner line before I doubled back towards the dorms. There was no way I was going to sit at the same table with all those people from orchestra, and there was no way I was going to let them see me sitting by myself. No, I would stick it out in my room, maybe buy some snacks at the little mini-store on campus. Deciding finally to stick with the vending machines in the dorm, I ran my guest card in the slot and trotted up the three flights of stairs. On the way, I stopped to buy food in the lounge, dropping my quarters into the machine and purchasing a bag of Doritos and some Junior Mints. Then I marched down the hall to Room 323 and found the door unlocked and the room occupied.

"Don't you ever sleep or eat or leave this room!"

Hilary looked up from her music at my sudden appearance and outburst.

"What's your problem?"

"You!"

"Look, just because you suck doesn't mean you should take it out on me!"

I grimaced as I remembered that Hilary had been at the orchestra rehearsal as well.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing, okay? Of course, I would die if I made such a fool of myself in front of everybody, but hey!" she added with a sigh.

After staring at her for a second, I deposited my bassoon case on the floor under my bed and exited the room. I needed quiet. I needed to be alone.

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**7:30 pm**

The CMC Faculty Performance had started and Rachel was nowhere to be seen. I had saved a seat for her -- like she asked -- even though I really didn't think I could face her or her swarm of friends. Apparently now she had ditched me and I didn't have to worry. Or so I thought just as a group of people entered through a side door, Jack in the lead. They tiptoed over to my row and all sat down all around me, Specs on my right and Grant on my left.

We listened in silence as Kloppman finished his piano sonata and all throughout Dr. Denton's rousing trombone solo. Just as Mayer and Esther Jacobs were getting up to perform a vocal/sax duet, Grant suddenly switched seats with the person on his left and I found myself sitting next to Tony.

"Hey," he whispered. "Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was there," I lied.

"No you weren't."

I didn't feel like continuing the argument, especially since I knew that he knew I was lying, so I didn't answer.

"And why didn't you wait up for me after orchestra or music history or camp chorus?"

"Was I supposed to?" I countered.

"Shhh!" hissed David from down the row. "Show my folks some respect!"

We showed respect for about twenty seconds before Tony whispered, "Hey look, if this is about Snyder's whole load of crap in orchestra today, forget it! That really had nothing to do with you."

"Oh, really? How does that work? You were magnificent and I sucked. You can't change the facts."

"He only made you play because he knew – "

"That I would blow it?"

"Julia, let me finish! That piece is extremely hard! I happened to have played it recently in my orchestra back home, which is why I was able to play it today. You can't be expected to sight read perfectly! He only made you do that to be able to criticize me!"

"Yeah right! How can he blame you? It's not like you could have called a special sectional for my sake in the ten minutes since we were given our parts."

"I know, but he felt he had to gain face somehow, but there really was no way –"

"Because you were just perfect! So he picked me – little old me who didn't even want to come to this stupid camp – to make a fool of."

"God, Julia, no ones cares that you messed up! I bet by tomorrow no one will even remember! Do you see Grant moping around? Well, in case you forgot, he got grilled too! You see him hiding from his friends? No, he knows that Snyder is just a cranky old –"

"I swear, Tony, if I hear your voice again I'll go in your bassoon case and crack all of your reeds!"

Glancing down the row at David, who was frowning angrily at us, I pondered what Tony was saying.

"Look," I said to him as the Jacobs were exiting the stage, "Can we just not talk about this?"

"Yeah sure, whatever."

The next performer appeared and accepted their applause.

"But we are going to have that extra sectional tomorrow, by the way."

"What?"

"I said, that extra sectional Snyder recommended? We're having it tomorrow, during lunch."

"No."

"I'm the section leader, I'm in charge, and I say yes. We need it, believe me. And then we can master the music and blow all of Snyder's attempts to embarrass us to the wind."

"You're starting to sound like my roommate. Please stop."

Tony laughed and fixed his eyes on the stage as David's angry hiss came again. "I mean it, jerks! Shut up!"

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**10:15 pm**

"So Julia, did you clear things up with Tony?"

I turned back to see Rachel standing in her doorway, eyeing me questionly. "Uh, what?"

"He said he needed to talk to you earlier, but we couldn't find you anywhere."

"Ah, well, I was around."

"Did you talk to him?"

"Sorta – I mean, yes. We're having an extra practice tomorrow. Don't worry, I won't ruin the performance – I swear to have my part mastered by then."

"Julia, I don't care how many times you mess up! I got lost all over the place during that piece."

"Really?"

"Well no, actually, but I did forget to play an F-natural during the second movement."

"Thanks."

"No problem. See you for breakfast?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Night."

"G'Night."

Opening the door to my room, I was welcomed by the sound of Hilary practicing again.

"Don't you ever sleep?"

"Still killing yourself about that stupid mistake?"

"Not really."

"Well good, cause it's not like anyone cares about your playing – good or bad."

"Well, thanks for that. Now please go to bed!"

And I reached over and turned out the light.

"Julia!"

"Oh, you do know my name."

"Turn that back on!"

"I'll tell you what; I'm going to the bathroom to change and brush my teeth – when I come back you had better have put that violin away 'cause I'm turning the light off again."

My second day was ending. I was still alive…barely. Of course, there was always tomorrow...

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_**A/N:**__ So there you go – Day 2. I hope you enjoyed it, and __please review_

_And, on a side note – I just saw __Stardust__…Charlie Cox is HOT!!!_

_**-- pj**_


	3. Day 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsies. I do not even own most of OCs in this fic, seeing how the majority of them are based off of real people.**

_**A/N:**__ So, I'm back – hey, it wasn't that long of a wait this time! Here is the next chapter, I will warn you that it's rather long. Thanks to the two peoples who reviewed the last chapter: TifaBee and ktkakes._

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Day 3 – Tuesday

**5:14 am**

May all violins and their players die gruesome deaths. May they all burn in hell.

"Hilary, it's 5 am! Go back to sleep, damn you!"

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**7:36 am**

Dang. I had somehow managed to fall back asleep amidst Hilary's continuous practicing and now I had missed breakfast and would miss my symphonic band rehearsal if I didn't hurry. Jumping out of bed and quickly grabbing a pair of jeans, a white tank top, and a music geek t-shirt, I changed from my pjs in a record of fifteen seconds.

My rehearsal began at eight o'clock sharp, and I needed to get there five minutes early to put my bassoon together. It was a good four minute walk to the Concert Hall from my dorm room, and it took me six minutes to brush my teeth and do my hair and apply the little make-up I wore. That left me seven minutes to find something to eat. The red digital numbers on my clock changed and I only had six minutes left. Hurriedly, I slipped on my shoes and snatched my wallet.

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**8:30 am**

"No! No! Remember, '_we come to rehearsal to learn the other peoples' parts!_' For example, Mr. Delancey, after you take your hand off Miss Franksen's thigh, please play for the band the 2nd clarinet's counter-melody at letter K2."

"What?"

"The 2nd clarinet's counter-melody at K2, please, Mr. Delancey."

"How am I supposed to know the 2nd clarinet's part? I'm the 1st trombone."

"I'm aware what position you are, Mr. Delancey, and I must say that I'm disappointed at your listening skills. Now let's try Mr. Corbiesero, 2nd clarinet counter-melody at K2, please."

Heads turned toward the 1st Horn, a shorter boy with a mop of messy brown hair. He closed his eyes briefly and then began a beautiful clean tune, with vibrant tone and flawless articulations.

"Bravo," Dr. Denton exclaimed when the horn had finished the strain. "There is a true musician, kids – yes, you can become quite sufficient on your instrument without developing your ear, but you will never become a great artist. Once you've trained your ear to pick out and recognize the other peoples' parts and how they work together, then you're on the road to glory. Today we are going to be working on developing your listening, so everyone gather up your music and your instrument and I'd like you all to move to a new spot in the band. Sit by some other instruments, instruments that are usually on the opposite side from you. I'll give you a few moments to get settled."

I took my music and my seatstrap and carried my bassoon over to the empty chair that happened to be next to the 1st Horn, Corbiesero. Sitting down, I situated myself and waited for the chaos to settle.

"Alright, quiet down now!" Dr. Denton was saying. "Everyone turn to one of your neighbors and introduce yourself . Tell them a little about you."

I turned towards the horn. "Julia," I offered.

"Nick," he answered.

"Your folder says 'Snipes'."

"Just a nickname."

"Oh."

"How many years have you been playing, Julia?"

"Two. You?"

"Four."

"Really? How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"You're a freshman?"

"Going into eighth grade, actually."

"I forgot they let incoming eighth graders in," I explained. "Holy crap, you're only thirteen?"

"Yeah."

"You're really good."

"Thanks."

Dr. Denton's instructions came drifting from the front of the stage. "Now turn to your other neighbor and do the same thing."

I turned around and saw the 1st Oboe seated next to me.

"Um, hi."

"I'm Jason."

"Julia."

"Nice to meet you, Julia."

"So, how old are you? Twelve?"

He stared at me for a long moment. "I'm eighteen, just graduated."

"Oh," I laughed. "Well, I was prepared for anything. My other neighbor is only thirteen."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen, next month."

"Are you in orchestra?"

I felt my face redden. "Is that a polite way of asking why I sucked so bad yesterday?"

"No, I honestly couldn't remember."

"I'm the only female bassoon."

"I guess I was too entranced with my music – and trying to ignore Dennis."

"That's long enough, folks!" Dr. Denton shouted from his podium.

"Who's Dennis?" I whispered.

Jason smiled. "2nd Oboe."

"Oh."

"So, band, let's play this piece again," started Dr. Denton, "and believe me, you will be amazed by how different it sounds with your current arrangement."

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**12:00 Noon**

I rushed down the steps after Tony, glaring at his back, wishing I could glare holes into it. Jason had invited me to sit with him and his friends for lunch and it wasn't until later that I had remembered that I was skipping lunch for Tony's mandatory sectional.. And so here I was, following my section leader into the basement, unable to get word to Jason as to the change in plans. Screw this day! I screamed silently.

Tony chuckled. Wait, I hadn't actually screamed that aloud, had I?

"So Julia," he said as he let us into a practice room, "we have an hour – I say we should spend ten minutes warming up and tuning, ten on the Rimsky–Korsakov, ten on the Schubert, twenty on the Tchaikovsky, and ten minutes orally discussing any questions and suggestions about the music, allowing our embouchures time to rest before orchestra. How does that sound?"

"Hold on, there's a Tchaikovsky?"

He smiled. "Let's just say I have friends in high places," he said as as he opened his folder and handed me a Xerox of the original 2nd bassoon part. "We'll have to hide those before we get to rehearsal – but I know for a fact that Snyder's going to have people sight-read this piece today and I wouldn't be surprised if he picks on us again."

"Did David get you this?"

"Hush, don't worry about how I got it. The point is, I got it, right?"

"Is this how you were able to play that one section of the Rimsky-Korsakov right yesterday?"

Laughing, he began putting his instrument together. "No, but I played the Rimsky-Korsakov last year in symphony, remember?"

"Whatever."

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**1:00 pm**

After our sectional, I had to pee, so Tony went on ahead. By the time I got onstage, practically the entire orchestra was seated. As I neared my chair, squeezing past rows of people, I heard someone say in a loud voice, "Hey Tony, there's that wonderful 2nd bassoon of yours. God, why is she even here?"

I felt my face flush as I took my seat.

"I can't wait for the lovely soloing she's gonna do today."

"Shut up, Oscar," was Tony's reply.

"Make me! The only reason I can tolerate you in the ensemble is cause you can play halfway decent. She should give it up and save peoples' ears their agony."

Tony didn't answer.

"Yo, Tony! I'm talking to you! She should –"

"_She_ is right here, and I know I sucked," I broke in angrily. "Now let it go, you jerkhead."

"Well hey, one mean name deserves another, right bitch?"

I heard someone turn around in their seat in front of me. "That's enough, Delancey. Drop it. Now."

"I was just having some fun, Skittery. You don't have to get all worked up about it."

I looked over my shoulder and saw Jason holding Oscar in a death gaze. "Leave her alone, Delancey," he warned.

"I'll do what I please."

"We'll see about that."

The sound of Snyder's sickening "attention"-cough caused everyone to turn back around in their chairs.

"If the group in the back is done with their catching up and chatting, I'd like to begin our rehearsal. I see that the bassoons are here – and expecting to play, I gather? Somehow I doubt they've improved much. But, we'll give them a chance to prove themselves, though they don't deserve one. I have a new piece, composed by Tchaikovsky, as a matter of fact. Let's hear them give it a try."

"David is my hero," I breathed a bit too loudly to Tony.

"What was that, Miss Michaels?" Snyder leered at me. "David _whom_ is your hero?"

I froze for a moment then shrugged, hopefully nonchalantly. "I said, David is my hero – King David…I'm, er, Jewish. I was wishing good luck upon myself," I bs-ed.

"I see, but I highly doubt your King David will help you."

"But you're wrong 'cause he already has," I said under my breath, this time so only Tony could hear.

"Both bassoons together at measure 294. Begin."

Tony had predicted the exact spot Snyder would start us at – actually, he had tried to get me to bet on it, but I had passed. Needless to say, he predicted correctly.

Due to the extra practice, I had the notes under my fingers and had memorized the dynamics and phrasing. Neither of us missed a beat or a note or an accent or anything. As we finished, a round of applause went up. Snyder looked positively furious, and Jason turned around and gave me a thumbs up.

The rest of rehearsal went fine without a single remark in our direction from Dr. Snyder. What a relief.

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**4:00 pm**

Music History passed in a blur of notes and a growing cramp in my arm from raising my hand so many times. Apparently my background in music theory helped my understanding of music history, because everyone else seemed to not get the difference between the Romantic era and the Modern era of music.

"Um, modern music has lyrics?"

So stupid. So stupid!

Camp chorus was much better, the black-haired girl with pigtails turned out to be very friendly and invited herself and her roommate to dinner with me. I was very glad, it meant more people I could hang out with that weren't a part of Rachel's clique. Not that I disliked anyone in particular from her group of friends, it was just that they all knew each other already and were all really advanced on their instruments.

Choir ended with a poem – Ms. Larkson claimed that the poem had moved her to tears that morning and she felt that she just had to share it with us. It was quite intense – so much so that the black-haired girl, or Anne, as she introduced herself as, and I left the building unable to stop giggling.

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**5:15 pm**

I entered the dining hall alone, Anne having promised to meet me there with her roommate. Grabbing a tray and plate, I got in line for some pizza. Hilary was four people ahead of me, though when I gave her half of an unenthusiastic wave, she ignored me.

"Hey Julia," said a voice behind me. Anne appeared then at my side, her friend in tow. "This is Klara."

"Klara?!"

In shock I watched as Hilary stomped over to me and shook her empty tray in my face. "That's it! You think that I've been an awful roommate so far? I know you think that! Well guess what! I'm going to make your life total hell for the rest of camp! I hate you!"

Everyone was staring as Hilary stormed out of the dining hall.

"Oh my god, what a freak!" Anne announced loudly.

"Whoah, ladies, you seem well loved," Jason said as he joined us, eyebrow raised in amazement. "Does everyone react that way to you?" he asked me.

I rolled my eyes. "I have no friggin' idea what triggered that."

"I do," Klara said.

"Really?"

Anne smiled wryly. "Klara got 3rd seat violin. You might have heard of her?"

"Oh, you think?!" I snorted. "So you're the reason I get absolutely no sleep because my roommate is obsessed with passing you up?"

"Sorry?"

"And now it seems I've made a deadly enemy because I've spoken to you."

"Again, sorry?"

"No, it's cool."

Smirking, Jason shook his head. "Well, I was just on my way out – I have to go practice for the Student Honors Recital tonight."

"Dude, you're still here, Jason?"

A tall guy with dark brown hair emerged from behind the salad bar.

"That's Grekory Syzsmanski, or Snoddy, as we sometimes call him. He's my buddy from back home."

"Yeah, and you said that you had to leave us, not talk to some chick, just in case you forgot," Snoddy accused in a teasing way.

"Us?" I ask.

"Yeah, Grekory will have to introduce you to everyone, cause I have to go now. Oh," he said over his shoulder as he started for the door, "save me a seat in the audience – I'm second on the program."

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**7:30 pm**

We all crammed into the front row of the concert hall, giggling and shoving. Grekory's younger brother, Taras, seated himself in Anne's lap and smiled suggestively.

"Oh my god," she screamed as she pushed him off.

Grekory sighed, "Leave the girls alone, Itey, you're fourteen, for god's sake."

I turned at Taras's nickname – what was it with people and nicknames? I could understand 'Itey' because he was the little brother, after all. Ryan – Jason's roommate, the flutist – he was Blink because one of his eyes was weaker than the other and he had to wear a patch sometimes. But Snoddy and Skittery?

"Ryan, scoot one more over."

"If you insist, darling Klara."

"Sigh."

"Did you just say the actual word 'sigh', Julia?"

"Yes, I did."

"Freak."

"Thank you, Anne."

Kloppmann walked onstage to a chorus of hoots and catcalls. "Please be quiet," he said in a low monotone. "First up, we have Mr. Sebastian Conlon."

Applause.

"Taras, get your hand off my leg!"

"Itey!"

"Awwww…"

"Whoever that is poking me, knock it off!"

"Oh, that was Julia?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were Itey. Can you pass it along to him please?"

"He's a bit busy down the row with Anne, methinks."

"What the hell!"

"Calm down, Snoddy!"

"God, people, just listen to Spot play!"

"I will, Klara, once this little perv gets his hands off me!"

"That wasn't me this time, and I'm not a perv!"

"Then who was it?"

"Oh, sorry."

"Wait, who was that?"

"Look, there's Skitts!"

"WE LOVE SKITTERY JONES!"

"God, he's pretty hot."

"Anne!"

"What? He is!"

"God."

"Shhhhh!"

"Eick! Itey!"

"SHUT UP!"

We finally quieted down a bit as Jason left the stage and Specs took his place. Halfway through Specs tenor aria, the person on my left switched places with someone else -- for the second time in two days!

"Hey," Jason said.

"You were great up there."

"Did you all really have to stand up and scream "We love Skittery Jones?'"

"Blame Grekory," I said as I pointed the fault down the row. "It was all his idea."

Jason grinned and threw a pencil at his friend. "Thanks buddy."

"Anytime," the older Syzsmanski replied.

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**9:00 pm**

The concert finally finished and we got up to head over to the watermelon feast that was going to take place on the dorm lawn.

"Someone should totally go hug Kloppmann," Ryan randomly suggested as we reached the line for melons.

"Uh, yeah, and that should be you, Blink. Thanks for volunteering," Grekory laughed.

"You totally should," Klara encouraged. "I dare you to hug him, Ryan."

"Not while he's holding that knife!" he said, referring to the large untensil the counselor/instructor was using to cut the fruit.

"Swear to me that you'll hug him before camp is over!"

"Okay! I swear I'll hug Kloppmann before camp is over."

"Huzzah!"

Jason hooted. "She'll hold you to that, Blink!"

"I'm aware of that."

We reached the table. "Watermelon?" Kloppmann asked, waving the knife in our direction.

We burst out laughing, but I managed to nod my head and we were all handed a large slice of melon. Moving away from the table, we found a bench and sat down.

"I dare everyone, especially Klara, to eat the rind as well," Ryan challenged.

"That's disgusting, but you're on," Klara answered.

We all took a huge bite of our watermelons, rind and all. Jason lost his after only a few seconds of chewing. "And I'm out," he said, hands in the air.

The flavor was sickening, but the texture was even worse. Chunks of hard clammy rinds mixed with the sweet juicy insides. I braced my stomach and forced it down, as did the others.

Anne frowned. "Do we have to eat the whole thing, Blink?"

Ryan smiled, though a little uneasily. "Yep."

"Well, I ate one bite," Grekory said, "but there's no way I can eat any— ," he trailed off and ran for a bush.

"Sick," a rather green-looking Klara commented.

"Next bite, anyone?"

"You bet, Blink," Taras grinned.

Another bite, more inner battles with my gag reflex. Chomp. Chew. Swallow. Chomp. Chew. Swallow. Pretty soon both Anne and Klara dropped out. Then Ryan.

"That's it, I never want to eat watermelon again," Ryan groaned. "You both are insane."

Taras and I looked down at our last bites of melon and rind.

"Sigh," I said.

Jason sniggered.

Chomp. Chew. Swallow. Everyone applauded.

"That was so gross!" I screeched.

Taras, however, jumped up onto the ledge of the bench and whooped. "Who's up for round two?!"

"No wait!" Jason countered quickly. "My stomach can't take any more of that torture! We should have piggyback races."

"Random!" sang Anne.

Ryan nodded. "Random, but an awesome idea."

"There are three girls, four if you count Itey – ow! you didn't have to kick me, you little bugger! – and three guys."

"I'm not a girl, Snoddy!"

"You're the referee."

"Fine."

I shake my head, trying to process the sudden decision. "Wait, what?"

"Hop on," Jason said, squatting by the bench. "Ryan and Snoddy, get a girl."

Taras began shouting in a loud auctioneer-like voice, "Well, ain't this interesting folks, the girls are riding the guys! Oo-hoo-hoo!"

"Itey!"

"Fine bro -- on your marks, get set, and go! Ladies and gentlemen, they're off, running like gazelles towards the finish line…where I'm supposed to be – oh shit!"

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**10:30 pm**

The counselors eventually rounded us up and sent us inside to our segregated floors, which sucked because not only was I separated from the guys, but Anne and Klara were down on the first floor and I was stuck on the third. Of course things had to get worse because I ran into Rachel.

"Julia, where were you at dinner and afterwards?"

Awkward. "Um, I was hanging with some other friends."

"Oh," she said, looking at me with a odd expression. "Whatever."

I ducked into the ladies' restroom as she walked away, not wanting to have to follow her all the way down the hall to my room. It was strange – I liked Rachel, and she had been nice to me, but it felt so weird now that I made some friends of my own. When I was sure she was gone, I tiptoed to my room.

Hilary refused to acknowledge my presence when I entered the room, so I set about getting ready for bed. Annoyed, I turned out the lights and climbed under my covers.

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**2:10 am (Wednesday)**

I had to pee. Clicking on my flashlight, I reached for my door key, but I couldn't find it in the dark, so I decided to just leave the door ajar. The bathroom was a ways down the hall. It was creepily silent and I hurried, wanted nothing more than to be curled up in my arm bed again.

Approaching my door on the way back, I noticed it was shut. What the heck? Jiggling the doorknob, I found it to be locked. I thought I had propped it open -- strange. Luckily, I still had a bobby pin in my hair from earlier and had been taught to pick locks by a bored older cousin at a family reunion a couple years back. After a few tries, I felt the lock turn. Sighing with relief, I pushed the door open and came to a noisy stop as the wood smashed into the metal of the chain bolt that had been put in place.

Oh great. Two in the morning and locked out of my dorm room by a vengeful roommate. Never underestimate the power of a pissed off violinist!

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_**A/N:**__ Please review!_

_**-- pj**_


	4. Day 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.**

_**A/N: **__Hey ya'll! I know it's been a while, but what can I say? Life's been crazy (as always) what with juggling school and work and sometimes sleep, never mind ever eating. :D _

_Special thanks to __ktkakes__, my faithful reviewer – and might I add, THE ONLY reviewer for the last chapter! Listen, I have a very short attention span, meaning I get bored with my stories very quickly. Reviews are the one thing that keeps me from abandoning my fics long before they're complete! If you read my story, please review. I'm not asking for a long and drawn-out critique and commentary (though I would welcome any that you wish to offer), just a short note saying whether or not you liked it, and a short explanation WHY you feel that way. Please do not just type "UPDATE pls!" because I will scream very loudly and probably hunt you down and make you explain WHY you want me to update! Lol…there, I feel a lot better with that off my chest…now don't let me down!_

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**(_previously…)_ 2:10 am (Wednesday)**

I had to pee. Clicking on my flashlight, I reached for my door key, but I couldn't find it in the dark, so I decided to just leave the door ajar. The bathroom was a ways down the hall. It was creepily silent and I hurried, wanted nothing more than to be curled up in my arm bed again.

Approaching my door on the way back, I noticed it was shut. What the heck? Jiggling the doorknob, I found it to be locked. I thought I had propped it open -- strange. Luckily, I still had a bobby pin in my hair from earlier and had been taught to pick locks by a bored older cousin at a family reunion a couple years back. After a few tries, I felt the lock turn. Sighing with relief, I pushed the door open and came to a noisy stop as the wood smashed into the metal of the chain bolt that had been put in place.

Oh great. Two in the morning and locked out of my dorm room by a vengeful roommate. Never underestimate the power of a pissed off violinist! … …

**(2:20 am, Day 4 – Wednesday) **"Hilary!" I hissed through the gap in the door. "This is not funny. Get up and unbolt the door, or else I'll go wake Sarah up and have her come take the door off its hinges and kick you out of camp!"

"You can try," she whispered back. "But Sarah's a dead sleeper, she'd sleep through a fire drill if there was one. Good luck."

"Open this door!"

I heard her yawn and roll over.

"Now, Hilary!"

"Go away, Julia, or better yet, go to hell!"

With an angry huff, I turned and marched to Sarah Jacob's door. Sarah was our counselor, though I hadn't really seen much of her. Her door had several sticky notes on it from various people and a large flowery sign that read, "_Mademoiselle Jacobs – Knock and Die._" I hesitated, my fist raised to pound on the wood. Was I really a tattletale, reporting all wrongdoings to the authority? Was that how I wanted to be perceived by all my peers – for surely Hilary would spread the news should I rat on her. Wouldn't it be easier just to go down to the first floor and wake up Anne and Klara and sleep on their floor for the night?

I lowered my arm and rolled my eyes. Room 186. Quite the sneaky walk waited for me, seeing how we weren't supposed to be up and about after eleven. Marching to the stairwell exit, I creaked open the door and let it shut behind me.

_Creak. Creak. Squeal. Clink._

I tiptoed down the stair to the first floor. And then stopped as I realized my horrible mistake. To exit a floor into the stairwell was easy, requiring nothing, however to get into a floor from the stairwell one needed their key and guest swiping card. Mine were on my table next to my bed. And I was now locked in the stairwell. Morning would come and the counselors would find me there, assume I was sneaking out to meet a boy, and kick me out of camp. Damn, I hated Hilary.

I knew without re-climbing the stairs that the third floor door had shut tight, I had heard the distinctive click. I was trapped. I climbed the stairs anyway to check. Locked. Stuck. Dead.

For the next half hour, I marched up and down the stairs, watching through the small windows in the door for any campers in the halls. Apparently no one had to relieve themselves.

I was so tired, and my legs ached every time I lifted them to take another step. I was also freezing. The air conditioning was on too high and all I was wearing was my pj pants and a white tank. Finally exhaustion won, and I sat down next to the 2nd floor door and laid my head back against the wall. Seconds later the door next to me opened.

"What the hell are you doing out here? I get up to go to the bathroom and I see this white figure outside in the stairwell!" a very sleepy Asian boy asked me.

I recovered my shock, and stood up quickly. "I got locked in here by accident. Can I borrow your slide card so I can get back onto my floor?"

"Sorry," he frowned, "our keys only work for the guys' floors, same with yours' – they only work for the girls'."

"So I'm stuck here?"

"That sucks."

"You think?"

He studied me for a moment. "Is there someone on this floor, a guy friend of some kind, that you'd like me to tell about this?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. I don't know what room number though."

"There are name tags on all the doors, I shouldn't have a problem."

"Jason Jones and Ryan Brecker."

"Oh, I know where they are."

"Well, thank you so much for this, I'm Julia, by the way."

"Swifty. And I'll be right back."

He disappeared in a flash, perhaps something to do with his name, I mused. It was several minutes before he returned with a disheveled Jason in tow.

"Here's one of them."

"Thank you so much, Swifty."

"Don't mention it. Nice to meet you."

Jason and I watched the friendly guy return to his dorm room before either of us spoke.

"So, what's the story," Jason asked, his voice still heavy from sleep.

"Hilary locked me out and then I forgot about the swipe cards and tried to get onto the first floor so that I could find shelter with Anne and Klara."

"Your roommate locked you out?"

"Yeah, I had to use the bathroom and I couldn't find my key."

"Well, you can't stay in the stairwell all night. They'll find you and…"

"Kick me out, I know."

He sighed and opened the door further. "Come on, you can stay with Blink and me."

"Really? If we get caught…"

"Then we all get kicked out, I know," he said, mimicking my early comment.

"How does Ryan feel about this?"

"He's fine, we'll shove you under the bed or something. Our beds are really high up and we have some extra blankets and pillows. And we'll sneak you out during the counselor meeting before breakfast. Don't worry. Now come on, I'd hate to think what would happen if a counselor sees us just standing here talking at two-thirty in the morning."

I followed him into the guys' hall, and down the long corridor. We took a left and headed down another hall, finally stopping at a door two-thirds of the way down.

"Home sweet home," he whispered as he unlocked and opened the door.

"Hey Julia," Ryan's groggy voice came from the gloom. "What's up?"

"Shhh," I warned.

"Blink, can you get the extra blankets and pillow? I'm going to clear my suitcases out from under my bed and make a hiding spot behind them for Julia."

The boys moved about quietly for a few minutes before Jason declared my new bed ready. "Normally I'd offer my bed to a guest and take the floor myself, but seeing how our counselor, Morris, makes routinely random dorm room checks at ungodly hours, I think it's safer with you out of sight. As I said, it should be a piece of cake sneaking you back out in the morning. So, sweet dreams."

I crawled under the high bed and found the blanketed spot. Laying my head on my pillow, I called out softly, "Night boys."

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**6:45 am**

Sneaking me back out turned out to be as simple as Jason had promised. No one saw Ryan checking the hall or Jason taking me by the hand and running me to the nearest exit. Well, actually, there was one person who saw us. Tony was leaving the bathroom as Jason and I rounded the corner right next to the stairwell entrance. He gave us a resigned look and shook his head before going back into his room. I was pretty sure that he wouldn't tell anyone though.

Once back in the stairwell, I waited till a girl from the third floor entered and then I caught the door and went inside. Listening outside my door, I heard Hilary practicing her violin skill. Good, I thought. I hadn't missed her.

Eventually the playing stopped and Hilary opened the door to go to breakfast. I jumped up and slipped past her as she did so and closed the door behind her. The first thing I did was find my key, making sure that Hilary hadn't swiped it or "lost" it for me. It was there, just under the corner of my bed and I scooped the lanyard up and hung it around my neck.

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**8:00 am**

"So, I saw you this morning," Tony said as I took my seat next to him at band.

"It wasn't what it looked like, and it really isn't your business," I informed him quickly.

"Sure, of course not – I'll only get stuck with some stupid crappy replacement 2nd bassoon when you get kicked out of camp for sleeping around!"

"I didn't sleep around!"

"Right, just with the first oboe."

"If you must know, I got locked out in the stairwell without my key. Jason found out and was kind enough to let me sleep on his floor so that I wouldn't get in trouble."

"Look, I don't want to hear about it. And I'm not going to rat on you, in case you're worried about that. Just next time you want to visit some guy for the night, be sure no one sees you doing so, or else I'll have to kill you!"

Dr. Denton clapped for attention from his podium. "Listen up, band! For today's rehearsal I'd like you all to return to the mixed up seating arrangements that we had yesterday."

I smiled gratefully at the conductor, relieved not to spend the _entire_ day sitting next to Tony.

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**11:00 am**

Master class came and went – Tony and I both playing our audition pieces for critique and commentary. After that the rest of the bassoons treated us like we were gods. It was rather confusing, because I sucked compared to Tony – however, I had heard one of the other boys practicing and had realized how much better than them I was. Still, if only they had seen me in orchestra the first day when I botched the Rimsky-Korsakov, I knew they wouldn't be as impressed.

Lunch was a fun affair as well. Neither Jason, Ryan, or I mentioned the events of the previous night. We all knew that Anne would do something crazy to Hilary to get back to her, and we really didn't want to risk our friend getting kicked out of camp because she was sticking up for us. So, instead we got everyone talking about the talent show that was happening that night. Grekory and Taras claimed they had something planned, though they wouldn't say what. Klara was playing a violin/euphonium duet with Anne, and Ryan was going to do an improv skit with his imaginary friend, Bob. Jason and I laughed when Anne suggested we sing or dance together for the show.

"I don't dance," I said.

"And I don't sing," Jason added emphatically.

"Besides," I smiled, "I'd rather be in the audience laughing at all of you guys."

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**1:00 pm**

Apparently Tony was pretty pissed at me, because he didn't say more than five words to me during the entire orchestra rehearsal. Those five words were: _E-natural_,_ ritard_,_ subito-piano_, and _shut up_. Well, what could I do? When I tried to talk to him he told me to shut up! It all sucked. Tony had been one of the friendliest people towards me at camp and now I had ruined it somehow.

Dr. Snyder was obviously pissed at me too. Probably something to do with the fact that Tony and I had made him look like a fool the day before. God, if it weren't for the actual music (which was beautiful), I would quit orchestra in a heartbeat.

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**6:00 pm**

We hurried through dinner, everyone looking forward to the talent show. The Syzsmanski brothers left first, hurrying off to practice whatever they were doing. Anne and Klara took off to rehearse their duet next.

"Ryan, when are you and Bob going to practice?"

Looking up from his monster hamburger, Ryan laughed. "We rehearsing in my head right now!"

Jason snorted. "We know you're not schizophrenic, so you can stop trying to mess with our minds, Blink."

"I'm getting ice cream," I announced as I rolled my eyes at the boys.

"Oh, I want some too!" Jason decided and we headed for the dessert line.

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**7:30 pm**

"Welcome to the Coughren Music Camp's Talent Show. First we have Erika playing a trumpet solo."

"Why, oh why! did they let Kloppman emcee?" I moaned as the older man cleared his throat and said in his dry monotone:

"Please be quiet."

Klara giggled. "I love Kloppman. Oh, and Ryan, you still have to hug him, remember?"

"Yes," he hissed back. "Now shut up, he's looking our way!"

After Erika played, Spot and Layla got up and did a contemporary dance together. Then Hilary did a violin solo, followed by Anne and Klara's duet. The girls did an amazing job, and I happened to overhear Jack Kelly saying vehemently to my right, "There! The girl with the black hair! She's the little snot who's been telling me I don't play the Tuba right. Geez, she just doesn't get that I am the Tuba God!"

Ryan was next. His routine with "Bob" left the entire audience in hysterical laughter and got a standing ovation.

Some other people I didn't recognize got up and did some quartets and ensembles and skits. Most of it was pretty boring, but there was an occasional humorous or talented bunch that kept us awake. Finally Kloppmann got up and announced the last act.

"Last, but not least, we have the Syzsmanski Brothers – Grekory and Taras, and they will be juggling."

The boys bounced onstage carrying two brightly colored bags.

"Hey everyone, how are you all doing?" Grekory asked.

"I'm sure you're probably bored out of your mind by now, but I guarantee that this act will wake you back up," Taras added.

"First of all," Grekory said as he opened his bag and took out three juggling balls, "we will be juggling – therefore we must have our juggling _balls_."

His brother took over, "We will referring to them as just plain _balls_. We will be juggling balls, holding balls, catching balls, squeezing balls, tossing balls, shaking balls, and taking each other's balls. Please get out all of your perverted giggles now."

"Because we really don't want to hear a chorus of snickering everyone we mention our precious balls," Grekory finished.

"It's really weird to hear Itey say 'don't be perverted'," Ryan said softly causing us all to join the tittering of laughter.

"Alright, enough with the dirty minds – what we have to show you is going to astound and amaze! The following program is extremely challenging and immensely exciting. Enjoy."

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**9:20 pm**

The talent show had ended not too long before and I was on my way to meet the gang outside the dorm. There was a section in one of our camp chorus pieces that I had a question on, so after the show I found Ms. Larkson and spoke with her about it. She had cleared things up quickly and I was now only a few minutes behind everyone else.

"Listen up, this ain't over yet," a low voice growled in my ear.

I whirled about, bumping into a tree and finding myself up against someone no other than Oscar Delancey. "Shit, what do you want?"

He snarled at me, "You think you're so safe with all your little boyfriends looking after you, but you're not. I'll get you somehow. I'll get all of you."

The nearness of his body scared me to death, his bad breath, his horrid smirk, his bulging eyes – one discolored by a nasty bruise. Frantically I tried to shy away but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

"I wouldn't tell them about this if I were you," he said before he grabbed my neck with one hand and drew my face closer to his.

"If you don't let go of me, I swear, I am going to scream!"

He laughed. I opened my mouth to make good on my threat and he leaned down and kissed me. I screamed. After a second he let go of me and shoved me away. Stumbling, I caught my balance and turned and ran for the dorms. Holy shit, I wanted to go home!

When I reached the safety of the dorm lights, I slowed down. My heart was still racing, but I had to make myself think. Oscar had threatened me, all of us, but who would believe me? His older brother was a counselor, and he apparently knew Dr. Snyder quite well. He'd probably say that I kissed him, or some other stupid thing, and I wouldn't be taken seriously. And if I told the gang, they'd go tar and feather the younger Delancey and everyone would, again, get sent home. So, I finally decided not to mention what happened, and just make sure that I didn't go anywhere alone anymore.

Taking a deep breath, I hurried over to where everyone was waiting.

"There you are," Jason said, putting his arm around my shoulder. I tensed for a moment, then relaxed into his protective aura. "I was getting worried about you."

I forced myself to smile. "You're silly. I was just talking to Ms. Larkson."

Jason nodded and started conversing with Ryan, but he didn't remove his arm from around me. I was glad. I laid my on his shoulder and wished to myself that I could always feel this safe.

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_**A/N:**__ So, do you remember my earlier melt-down about reviewing?_

_**-- pj**_


	5. Day 5

**Disclaimer: Shall I insult your intelligence by stating the obvious? Do you really believe that I own Newsies or are making money off of this?**

_**A/N:**__ So, there's nothing like a looming deadline ticking away next to your ear, to make you update old stories. :P I've prolly lost all my original reviewers, but hey, maybe someone new will find this fic and enjoy it (and REVIEW!). :D_

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**6:30 am**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I rolled over and reached for the snooze button on my alarm clock before sitting up in shock. This was the first morning that I hadn't been awoken by Hilary's early morning practicing. Glancing over at her bed, I saw her marking bowing into her music before lifting her violin again. Apparently she had been playing but I had learned to sleep through it. Score for me!

"Morning, Hilary," I said with mock-sweetness as I switched off my alarm. "How did you sleep last night? I slept wonderfully."

"Well that's jolly-effing-nice for you," she replied before flipping me off.

I laughed and went to take my shower.

It wasn't until halfway through my shower that I remembered the previous night and Oscar Delancey. Immediately my day went from great to sucky. There was no way I was going to be caught alone with that creep again, ever! When I got back to my room, I crawled back in bed and huddled under the covers, ignoring Hilary's snort of amusement. Let her laugh, she should be glad she hadn't been kissed by the younger Delancey.

By the time Hilary left for breakfast, I had stopped shivering, but was no means ready to venture out by myself. Luckily for me, Anne and Klara grew impatient of waiting in the stairwell, and came to drag me from my bed.

The Syzmanski brothers were already seated and eating by the time we got to breakfast. Jason was nowhere to be seen.

"Mornin'" I said as I sat down.

"Mmph-Badumph-Mmphph," Taras replied.

Grekory smacked the back of his head. "Chew and swallow before you speak, Itey!"

"Where's the J-man?" Anne asked.

The picture of Jason as the Joker and Anne as Harli Quinn passed through my mind, and despite my gloominess, I burst out laughing.

"It wasn't that funny," Anne grumbled.

"Oh, but it was," I managed, finally beginning to regain control of myself. That was, of course, for naught, because the pancake I was trying to put into my mouth fell onto Klara's lap instead. My giggles began again mixed with her shrieks of: "Oh no, not syrup!"

"Jason and Blink are skipping breakfast today," Grekory said, plainly trying to ignore the chaos on our side of the table. After a few moments, he gave it up. "Good god, Itey, go get them some wet napkins!"

"Sorry about that," I apologized to my violinist friend. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I stop laughing?

Klara smiled. "No problem. I love these jeans, and as proof, they have several stains already. Paint, colored hair spray, whipped cream, car grease, and now syrup. It just startled me, that's all."

"Calm down, Julia," Anne said, patting me on the back.

Finally, my breathing slowed to normal and I returned to my former depressed self. The rest of breakfast was subdued, save for Anne's comment to me as we rose to head to symphonic band:

"From one extreme to another – god, girl! You've got to find yourself a happy medium!"

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**8:00 am**

Anne waited while I assembled my bassoon before band. I hadn't told anyone about Oscar and I didn't plan to, but I think she sensed that I was a bit distraught.

"Hey, Pigtails!"

We both turned to see Jack Kelly striding towards us.

"It's Anne, actually," my black-pigtailed-haired friend retorted.

"Whatever."

"What do you want?"

"To tell you to keep your perfect-pitched ears listening for my perfect-pitched playing today."

"As opposed to all the other days? I'm glad you've realized that I'm right."

"I don't play sharp!"

"Yes, you do. I've heard you four days consecutively."

"I'm – "

" – the Tuba God? So you've mentioned."

I sniffed in an amused fashion and looked at the ceiling. The two brass players squabble was quite interesting, to say the least.

"Who gave you the job of being the pitch police?"

"I just thought that you were mature enough to take the criticism and use it to improve your playing, that's all," Anne was growing annoyed and bored, I could tell.

"If the criticism were coming from someone I thought I could respect, maybe I _would_ take it better."

"Oh, you think you're _soooo_ much better than I am, don't you? God, Julia, what the hell?" Anne exclaimed as someone bumped into me from behind, knocking me into her.

I knew who had run into me before I looked.

"Heya, Oscar, get back over here and apologize to the lady for bumping into her!" Jack demanded, his feud with Anne apparently forgotten for the moment.

"So sorry," the creep said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

Jack rolled his eyes and turned back to Anne. "You're crazy," he told her.

"I know," she replied. "You're an egotistical sharp-playing doofus."

"Oh, ouch, that one hurt. And I do NOT play sharp!"

So intent on their bickering, neither saw Oscar give me the finger. Flipped off twice in the period of two hours. Wow, this day was sure going great.

"Hi Tony, are you talking to me yet?" I asked as I slid into my seat for band.

"I'm thinking about it," was his answer.

I gritted my teeth and decided to give him some of his own treatment. From now on, I wasn't going to speak to a certain annoying, talented, Italian bassoonist.

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**11:15 am**

"Julia, that was very good. You have excellent articulations and vibrato. I think the one thing you could work on is a bit larger tone. Put your music out there all the way to the last row in the auditorium. Big tone! Macho tone! Rich, huge tone!"

The bassoon masterclass teacher was quite impressed, I could tell. And I knew what she meant about the tone. All of my instructors had been telling me that the entire two years I had been playing. I was working on it, it just took a while.

"Does anyone have something else to add? Something that stood out to them, either praise or constructively critiqual? Tony?"

Tony lowered his hand and smiled. "I thought the piece was great. I just love Hindemith, don't you? What I have to say though, isn't about that – Julia, I'm sorry for being so rude earlier. I believe you that nothing happened with Jason, and it's also not even my business if something did. Will you please come back and eat lunch with our group again?"

The teacher's face was priceless.

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**12:00 Noon**

"I can't believe you said that in front of all those people!"

Tony grinned as we walked out of the basement where our masterclasses were held, holding the door open for me as we went.

"Her face, oh, it was great!" I squealed.

"Yeah, I wanted to make it up to you. I acted like a jerk. And so, are you sitting with us at lunch, or not?"

"I can't," I sighed. "I promised to sit with Anne and the others at lunch. But I'll come for dinner."

"Awesome. It's been lonely without my bassoon buddy."

"Lonely? With Grant at the table? Not to mention Jack and Spot?"

"True," he laughed. "Off to lunch and our different circles then?"

I took his offered arm and we skipped the rest of the way to the dining hall.

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**1:00 pm**

Lunch was long. Jason and Blink skipped, again, though Grekory assured us that they had plenty of food stocked up in their dorm room. Therefore, there was no interesting conversation throughout the entire meal. All Anne could talk about was "that jerk-of-a-doofus Jack Kelly, no wonder he played tuba" and "he was totally sharp again today" while Klara ate her food in silence. Grekory and Taras shoveled their food into their mouths without stopping to breathe it seemed. The sounds of them chewing and swallowing were only interrupted by an occasional belch by Itey. I almost wished that I had taken up Tony's offer.

That was when I had glanced at "Rachel's" table and its new inhabitant. Stupid damn blonde-bitchy violinist. I hate her. Seated at Tony's right, Hilary kept whispering in his ear, and his face kept growing redder and redder. Eventually, he caught me staring and flipped me off. What is it today. Do I have a "flip me off" sign tapped to my forehead or something?

Grekory walked with me back to symphony. On the way he started talking about Jason. It was an awkward conversation to say the least.

"Jason's pretty cool, huh."

"Yeah, sure, Grekory."

"He's not usually like this."

"You mean he's not usually cool?"

"He's not usually happy."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I've known Jason for almost my entire life, and he's one depressed kid."

"So the Jason I know doesn't really exist?"

"No, he can be happy occasionally, but just not usually."

"And why do you think he's happy now?"

"Well, he's met some pretty awesome people here that he seems to like a lot and would like them to like him."

"So he's faking who he is so that he'll be popular?"

"No, it's more that the people he's met are bringing out the happy side to him."

"Grekory, you are hecka confusing me."

"Sorry. Forget I said anything, okay?"

"Sure thing."

Symphony was hell. Sheer and utter hell. Tony was once again pissed at me, for reasons I had no idea about (though I was pretty sure that Hilary was behind it). When I tried to talk to him about it, he glared a killer glare and went back to ignoring me. Both of us played wonderfully. I guess anger sharpens the mind and quickens the fingers. Who knows?

During our ten minutes symphony break, I hurried for the drinking fountain after making sure that Oscar was otherwised engaged and couldn't follow me. So preoccupied with escaping without him seeing me, I bumped into a brunette wearing a skirt made out of neckties.

"Sorry 'bout that," I said quickly.

"No problem. I'm Cadence."

"Oh, hi. Wow."

She looked at me oddly. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just, you're the 2nd seat cello, right?"

"Yeah."

"I just know someone who thinks you're extremely hot."

"Grant Meyers?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me, is he really as insane as he seems?"

"Yep. But he's awesome – a bit exuberant, but everyone needs a good dose of exerburance. Grant's just a big dose. You have to get used to him."

"He says his friends call him Mush?"

"They do. And I'm Julia, by the way."

Mr. Snyder was tapping his stick on his stand, signaling us all to return to our seats. I got my drink really fast and ran back onto the stage with my bassoon. I got the evil stare from the symphony conductor, but he didn't say anything.

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**3:45 pm**

I was in the middle of scribbling down a note about the three composers born in 1685: Bach, Handel, and Scarlotte the Younger, when a folded piece of paper slid onto my desk. Glancing around, I couldn't tell who it had come from. Kloppman wasn't paying attention, so I opened it and read:

"_so, do you really sneak out every night to meet boys? – g."_

I frowned and looked around again. Grant was across the room and was looking conveniently at the ceiling. Rolling my eyes, I wrote a reply:

"_No, I don't. Wherever did you hear such crap? I got locked out of my room once and stayed with a male friend, but absolutely nothing happened. – j."_

I nudged the girl to my left and nodded my head towards Grant. She smiled and passed the paper along. A few minutes later she handed it back to me. The reply read:

"_the blonde chick at lunch today was telling Race all sorts of stuff about you. she also said that you were bi and didn't like her cause you had a crush on her and she is straight. – g."_

Feeling my blood begin to roil, I angrily scratched down my answer.

"_That lying little bitch. I am not bi! And I don't just dislike Hil, I HATE her. Nothing happened between me and any guy here! – j."_

Kloppman came to stand next to me as he lectured, so I had to wait till he turned to write something on the board to pass the note back. Class ended before I could get Grant's latest addition, but the cellist caught up to me as we walked towards Camp Chorus.

"I'm glad you're not bi and that you haven't been sleeping around," he announced loudly, causing several people to stare and snigger.

"Grant," I hissed. "That was totally not the coolest thing to say aloud."

"Sorry. So, you ready for the pictures?"

"Pictures?"

Grant grinned at me. After a moment the grin slipped into a look that bordered on terror. "Please tell me that you're kidding. Please tell me that you know what today is! Argh! They always say, 'kill the messenger', gah!"

"Just spit it out, Grant," I said, frustrated at his antics.

"It's picture day. Instead of having camp chorus, we all get our picture taken."

I froze.

"Yeah, now's the time for you to start running around screaming because you think you look like crap. However, I think you look great. And I'm sure that Race does too. And whatever the 'other' guy's name is, too. Well, you might want to fix your eyeliner a little bit."

Sigh. Boys.

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**4:30 pm**

I am totally in shock that they think that it's safe to cram two hundred high schoolers on wooden risers with wire backs that were only constructed that morning! Behind me three rows, and to the left around thirteen people, Jack and David were attempting a Russian Cossack dance on the top level. Needless to say, the entire fragile frame was shifting quite discontently from the activity and I could hear several squeaks and groans that left me fighting back a sweat.

"Everyone look at me and smile! One. Two. Three." There was a long pause after the three before the light finally flashed.

"Oh, can't see! I can't see!" I heard Taras shriek.

"Alright, one more serious picture. One. Two." Flash. "Er, three."

I rolled my eyes.

"Funny picture! Do funny poses. Silly stuff! Come on!"

Turning to my neighbor, I began to throttle them. Or at least, that what I meant to do, but I suddenly found myself hoisted into the air and passed backwards towards the top of the unstable contraption.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Hiya, Julia!" A deviously grinning face that belonged to a patched flutist poked up through my elbow.

"Ryan! Put me down!"

"No can do, sweets."

"Ryan, Blink, Brecker, or whatever you go by, you put me down or – "

"God, Julia, calm down, they're about to take the picture," Jason said in my ear. I whipped my head around, but no matter how I tried to see over my shoulder, he was hidden from view.

"I'm going to kill you two for this," I muttered.

"Ready? One. Two. Three." Long pause. "Uh. One. Two. Thr—" Flash.

"Now, put me down!"

Jason laughed. "As Blink said, no can do."

"Why not?"

"Unless you want to be passed back down to your original spot, then there's no where to put you down in."

"Fine. But I swear, if you drop me, so help me – "

"Calm, Julia. Breathe."

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**7:30 pm**

The Student Ensemble Recital had begun. The group was attempting to be quiet, though after the riotous dinner at which Blink had snitched a cucumber from the fresh vegetable display, proceeding to eat half of it raw before offering the other half (after being goaded on by Klara) to a passing-by Kloppman. Kloppman's reply had been the highlight of the entire meal, spoken in his usual deadpan: "I don't think you're supposed to eat those. And I would wash it and salt it first." Other than that, the talk mostly consisted of the dance that was set for the following evening.

"First up, we have our Intermediate Saxophone Quartet, with Ashley on soprano, Les on alto, Karl on tenor, and Sam on bari."

Of course, Kloppman was once again emceeing the concert, in his deadpan voice, looking as bored as ever. The sax quartet was okay, but the next group got the most applause from us.

"Next up is the chamber wind ensemble with Beckah on flute, Jason on oboe, Edmund on Clarinet, Alex on bassoon, Nick on horn, and Rachel on trombone."

"There was a chamber wind ensemble?" I whispered to Anne. "There wasn't when I registered. Only stupid boring electives."

"It went fast. Apparently only the early registers had the chance."

"Whatever. And why, oh why, is Jason wearing a Fedora?"

"Now we have our Advanced Saxaphone Quartet, with Mikayla on soprano, Kyle on alto, David on tenor, and Matt on bari."

"How did we do?" Jason asked as he took the seat next to me, already tugging off the tie he had been wearing.

"Awesome."

"Glad you liked it."

"Yeah, I wish I could have been in it. I didn't even know there was a chamber wind ensemble."

"It was pretty small."

"I'm stuck in Music History."

"Hey, it's with Kloppman."

"True."

The sax quartet stood for their bows and our beloved teacher returned to announce the next group.

"I LOVE YOU, KLOPPMAN!"

We all turned to see Ryan slip farther down into his chair, his cheek flushing redder by the moment. "She made me do it!" he insisted, pointing at Klara. She nodded, accepting the blame.

"Please be quiet," was all Kloppman said to that. "Next up, we have…"

Various people in our row came and went getting ready for their various performances. I wasn't in anything, as my elective wasn't a performing one. At one point I looked over and noticed that Jason and I were the only one in the row.

"Where'd they all go?" I asked, nudging him.

Jason shrugged.

"And now, we have the Didgeridoo Choir," Kloppman said before retreating behind the curtain once again.

Suddenly Ryan came bursting onto the stage, his face smeared with paint, his jacket wrapped around his waist, and holding a didgeridoo to his lips making the oddest sound. He danced his way around the stage before lowering his wooden instrument and stomping three times. A chorus of deep grunts and whistles filled the auditorium as members of the ensemble leapt to their feet. High up in the balcony right behind our heads, we could hear more people rising and blowing on their instruments. In reality, only Ryan had a real didgeridoo. Everyone else had long pieces of PVC piping.

"Ew! I can feel all their spit raining down on my head!" I complained.

Jason snorted and removed his hat from his head. "Here," he said, placing it on my head. "You can wear the Fedora."

"Gee, thanks."

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**10:00 pm**

The recital didn't get over till late, but we still had time to party a bit before heading in to our rooms. I was rather grateful to get away due to the fact that Oscar had hung about, purposefully drawing my attention to himself all evening. The memory of his pale greasy face, his discolored eye and unwashed hair made me shiver.

I didn't have time for that though, I had a bone to pick with Hilary the Bitch. Enough was enough, and if she couldn't understand that, I would just have to make her understand it.

"Yo, Hilary. Why do you hate me so much? Huh? I know you're a bitch and you don't like it that I'm friends with the girl you've made your arch-nemesis, but that doesn't mean you have to try and ruin my life!"

She just smiled at me and went back to her air bowing.

"I ASKED YOU A FREAKIN' QUESTION! I WANT AN ANSWER!"

"Get used to disappointment."

She did NOT just quote the Princess Bride at me! She just didn't! I was tempted to bash her blonde little head into the wall and break her damn violin over her damn head, but I restrain myself. Instead, I switched off the lights and climbed into my bed, pulling the covers over my head.

Tomorrow had better get better, or I was going to scream.

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_**A/N:**_Please review.

_**-- pj**_


	6. Day 6

**Disclaimer: I own no Newsies, and I have no money, so why bother suing me?**

_**A/N:**__ Hehehe…uh, sorry for the super long wait…at least I'm updating! And it's a long chapter for you! Hopefully you're still reading! Lots of stuff happens in this chappie – most ties are…well, tied. _

_And, one (rather ironic) note before the chapter, I just love how I don't update for months…until I have an insanely important deadline that will affect the outcome of my entire life. Then I decide to procrastinate and go finish my fic. (rolls eyes at self)._

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**6:30 am**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I sat up in utter confusion. How was it possible for me to sleep through Hilary's practicing for a second morning? My hand shot out automatically and switched off the alarm. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I cast a glance over at my roommate's bed expecting to see her up and playing her violin. Instead, there was just a blanket-covered lump that rose and fell gently. Hilary was still asleep? Wait, this was just too odd. Twilight Zone-ish almost.

I pulled back my covers and swung my legs over the side to the floor, debating what I should do. Was she sick? Or perhaps just overtired from getting up so early and going to bed so late every night? Should I leave her alone and let her sleep, or wake her up so she'd have time to get ready and make it to breakfast? With a groan, I padded over to my closet, my socks rubbing on the carpet creating static electricity. The metal closet handle shocked me as I opened the door. Grabbing my shower bag, a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt, I headed for the hall. As I stepped out into the well-lit corridor, my conscience won out. It didn't matter that Hilary was an annoying bitch; I couldn't just leave her to oversleep and miss classes.

"Oh hey, Sleeping Beauty? Wake up!" I called as I threw my extra pillow at her head.

My conscience didn't specify that I had to rouse her kindly.

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**7:00 am**

"Why the smile, Jules?" Anne asked as I took my place at the breakfast table.

I hadn't even realized that I was smiling. "Oh, uh, Hilary overslept so I got a decent night's rest without her practicing."

"Wait," Klara said, her eyebrows raised. "Hil overslept?"

"Yeah."

"That's awesome. Did you wake her up?"

"Yes, Klara, I did."

"What?" Anne burst in. "You should have let her sleep all day and get kicked out of camp! Jeez, the girl makes your life living hell and you repay her by being nice? You're screwed up, you know that, right?"

Jason snickered across the table.

"Got something to add to that, Mr. Jones?" I gave him a pointed stare.

"No, um, not really."

"Good."

We ate in silence for a few minutes, before Ryan gave a huge sigh.

"Gosh, I'm going to miss this place."

"Ryan!" Klara shrieked. "You can't talk about leaving. We only just got here! I mean, we still have…oh no, tomorrow the last day!"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, that's what I was saying. I'm sure going to miss this food. I can't wait to go to college – it's nothing like high school. I love edible food."

"I second you on that," Grekory said, looking up from his scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Food. Is. Beautiful." Taras added.

I laughed. "I'm going to miss everyone more than I'm going to miss the food, boys."

"Well, that shows you how stupid girls are."

"Taras, that was a really stupid thing to say," Anne growled.

"So, the dance…"

Everyone turned to Jason, whose attempt to change the subject left him rather flushed.

"You were saying about the dance, Jason?" Anne prompted.

"Never mind."

Anne rolled her eyes. "Okay, you can forget about it, but everybody else, who are you going with?"

"Sue," Taras said, as if we should all understand.

"Who the heck is Sue, Itey?" The older Syzsmanski brother asked, looking at his younger sibling in surprise.

Taras frowned. "A fellow percussionist in band. She's a junior."

"You're a freshie, Itey, you can't go with a junior!"

"I can too, Snoddy. And you're not my mom, you're my brother, so shut up."

I glared at Anne for starting the argument between the boys.

"Oops," was all she said.

"So, Julia," Klara started and then leaned in so only I could hear, "You're going with Jason, right?"

"What? No. I mean, he hasn't asked me yet. And, of course, I don't know if he will. He might ask you, or Anne, or somebody else, or not even go at all. Who knows!"

She snorted. "Yeah right, he obviously likes you. So don't worry, he'll ask. I can tell."

"Whatever," I muttered and went back to my breakfast.

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**8:00 am**

My feeling of nostalgia for camp (…the camp I hadn't even left yet) didn't go away, casting a bit of a shadow over my previously bright spirits. Matters didn't help when I reached band only to see that Tony still looked sulky.

"Hey," I attempted.

"Whatever."

"Sigh."

He looked at me odd.

"I just said sigh again, didn't I?"

"Yeah." At least there was a small smile on his face now.

Fiddling with my bassoon seatstrap, I decided to be blunt. "I saw you talking with Hilary yesterday."

"Your roommate?"

I nodded.

"The blonde bitch?"

Another, more emphatic, nod from me.

"What about her?" he asked.

"You seemed really antagonistic towards me after speaking with her," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Antagonistic? This is camp, Julia, not Lit. Class! Please refrain from making my brain hurt!"

"Sorry!"

My tentative giggles were cut short as Dr. Denton climbed onto his podium and called out, "Alright folks, we're starting rehearsal with No. 973. 9-7-3. Tomorrow is our concert, your parents and friends will be here, sitting in those seats, eyes following your every move, waiting to take you out to party afterwards, and then back home and back to school so you can teach all your bandmates the useful things that your super cool camp band director taught you this summer!"

"Wow, did he just say all that without taking a breath?"

Tony laughed. "Yeah, I think he did."

"The point I was trying to make with that little speech," Dr. Denton continued, "is that tomorrow is our concert and we all have to perform. So let's make this rehearsal really count, okay? Now, Erika, as concertmistress, you will give us our tuning B-flat."

I set to work tuning, and trying to figure out Tony. One second he was mad, then he's fine. Then he's mad. Then he's fine. What the heck!

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**12:00 Noon**

I was so ready to perform the band material, as was Tony, however the rest of the bassoons from the Concert Band were not. Our entire masterclass had been turned into a giant band sectional, never once focusing on the Symphonic band. When it finally let out, Tony and I cheered and fled the claustrophobic basement, swearing never to return.

"We're free!" I shouted, bursting out the auditorium's side doors into the bright sunlight.

"We're alive!" joined in Tony, grabbing my hands and swinging around in a half victory, half crazy dance.

Rachel came scampering around the corner at the sound of our voices. "Tony?"

"Yeah?" he replied, ceasing our wild movements.

"David needs to talk to you a sec, okay?"

"Sure thing. Hang on a moment, Julia, I'll be right back."

I shrugged, still trying to catch my breath, "That's alright, I'll just go get a drink from the fountain."

Picking up my purse from where I had dropped it, I headed the opposite direction as Tony. When I reached the drinking fountain, I found that it was out of order. With a sigh, I turned to go and found myself, once again, looking straight at the huge chest of Oscar Delancey.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I told myself. What are you doing by yourself again?!

"Hiya Doll. How _are_ you?"

"Fine, _thank_ you. Now, please excuse me."

He stepped in my path as I tried to move around him. "Not so fast, girlie. I want to ask you something."

"Er, no thanks," I squeaked, beginning to panic.

"What do you say that you and me go to the dance together?"

As stupid as it sounds, I mean, big scary guy right there in front of me, but I laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Excuse me," I repeated, trying to get past him again.

"Already going with someone, _sweetheart_?"

Pardon me while I GAG! "As a matter of fact – "

"—she's going with me," a voice interrupted my pathetic attempt of a lie.

There stood Tony, hands on hips, and a very cold expression on his face. Oscar flinched slightly, then snorted. "I should have guessed that the little bassoon bitch would end up with you. On second thought, you can have her. She's not all that hot anyway."

Tony's fist seemed to spring from his side of its own accord, connecting into Oscar's jaw with a loud thud. I was so stunned that I couldn't move.

"Don't you ever call her that again, do you hear me? I warned you already, Delancey, though apparently it wasn't enough. This is your last chance! If you ever go near her or bother her in any way again, I'll do more than just blacken your eye or bruise your jaw! Do you understand?"

Oscar leapt back to his feet, snarling and balling his hands into fists. "I'd like to see you try that again, Higgins! I'll kill you!"

Tony didn't look fazed. "Oh, I'm really scared of you, Delancey.

"Tony, look out!" I watched in horror as Oscar charged the smaller guy. I shouldn't have worried though, because Tony just sidestepped and sent his opponent sprawling onto the asphalt. The downed trombone moaned and cussed as he rose again to his feet. This time, however, he merely flipped us off and stumbled away, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll get you somehow, Higgins, and your little bitch too!"

The two of us didn't speak for a while as we tried to catch our breaths and let our hearts slow back down to normal speed. Finally, in an attempt to break the mood, I said, "I think he just burned himself by modifying and using a Wizard of Oz quote."

Tony nodded. "Yeah. He's such an ass."

"You're the one who gave him that black eye then?"

"That was me. He was dissing you the other night and I couldn't take it."

"Why? I'm just your poor 2nd bassoon who has to put up with your crazy bipolar tendencies."

"Will you go to the dance with me?"

I looked up at the sudden question, utterly startled. Tony just asked me to the dance? "Wait, what?"

"I said," he started again, "will you go to the dance tonight with me. I know Jason's probably already asked you, but in case he hasn't yet…"

"He hasn't," I admitted.

"So…."

I liked Tony, I truly did. Even though he had his weird mood switches, I couldn't deny the fact that I was attracted to him. But I liked Jason too, a lot, and Jason was always there for me. Actually, now that I thought about it, Tony was apparently the one who was always there for me, even thought I hadn't known it. Despite all his good qualities, I couldn't see Jason punching Oscar. And, Jason hadn't asked me yet. And, I rather owed to Tony, seeing how he'd just taken care of my camp nightmare for me.

"Yes."

Tony's eyebrows went up. "Yes, what?"

"I'll go with you."

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**12:30 pm**

"There you are, Julia! We were wondering where you'd gotten to," Grekory said, as I approached my lunch table. The whole fiasco with Oscar had made me half an hour late.

"Sorry, got caught up with something. I'm here now though. What did I miss?"

Klara laughed. "It was awesome. That tuba, Jack Kelly, came over here to argue with Anne again. It was hilarious, she threw a grape at him!"

"I should have thrown a potato at him," Anne grumbled from across the table.

Ryan perked up. "A potato?"

"There's a pile of them in the raw vegetable display. I really wanted to club him to death with one."

"I'll be right back," Ryan said quickly, darting out of his seat. Moments later he was back with a raw potato. "Community potato. Everyone has to take a bite."

"That's disgusting, Blink," Jason sighed, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Anne added, recoiling backwards from the large spud, "sharing food is nasty."

Taras nodded, "You what's going to be more disgusting? Have you ever eaten unwashed potato peel?"

"As a matter of fact, Itey, I haven't. I'll take your word for it though, I'm sure you have." Klara answered.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll go first." Taking a long, overly dramatic breath, he chomped into the potato as if it were a delicious apple. "Ugh—er—yum! Yes, yummy!"

"Right," I quipped, spearing a piece of chicken with my fork. "I'm happy with my well cooked meat. No more gross food eating contests for me. The watermelon rind was enough."

"So no one's going to eat any of this yummy potato?" Ryan's face was screwed up into a constipated looking smile.

Klara smirked. "Nope. But tell me, Ryan, is your stomach cramping yet?"

Anne interrupted my giggling, hissing frantically, "Hey Julia, we're currently having a very interesting conversation, and oh my gosh!" her voice blossomed into a loud and bubbly tone. "You are so right! There are no cute brass players here at camp!"

I stared at the possessed Anne in horror before seeing the reason for her morph. Her tuba bane, Jack Kelly, was standing a few feet away, an offended expression on his face. "As a matter of fact, little miss-doesn't-know-what-she's-talking-about, there are many girls who think I am more than just cute."

"Blech!" Ryan gagged, coughing up his bite of potato.

Klara screeched. "Ryan, ewwww! Gross, gross, gross!"

"I'll go get some napkins," Jason offered before hurriedly leaving the table. I was sorely tempted to follow, but I didn't want to miss a showdown between Jack and Anne.

The "tuba god" was staring strangely at the choking Ryan. "What _is_ that?"

"Potato," Anne answered snottily. "We have a strong stomach contest every now and then. He lost. As you would, of course."

Jack didn't reply. Instead, he reached over and picked up the uneaten potato. I cringed as he took a huge bite. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and shrugged. "And the big deal is…?"

"Argh," Anne exclaimed, snatching the potato from him and taking a bite herself. She showed no sign of its repulsive taste, but I felt her foot start shaking under the table. "Yes," she said evenly, "nothing to it."

"Exactly," and the "tuba god" walked away.

Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see Jason handing Klara a stack of napkins, before he leaned back over to me and whispered, "Hey, can I talk to you a moment."

"Sure," I said, though my stomach was starting to feel queasy.

Leaving a fuming Anne behind, we exited the dining hall. After several long moments of silence, Jason finally spoke. "I've been meaning to ask you this for a while, but, well, I wasn't exactly sure how to do it."

Oh, crap.

"Julia, you're really cool, and I would love it…hold on a sec," Jason held up an index finger and stuck his tongue to one side of his mouth. "Oh right," he said, going down on one knee, "will you, Julia Michaels, go to the dance tonight with me?"

Oh, double crap.

"Uh, Jason, I would love to – "

"—yes!" he interrupted. "That's awesome, I mean, I – "

I cut him off. "Jason, let me finish, and for goodness sake, get up. Jason, I would love to go with you, except that I'm already going with someone else."

His face froze. "What? With who?"

"Tony."

"Why?"

It was my turn to be shocked. "_Why?_ Is that your business?"

"Julia, he's always being mean to you. He's always snappy and giving you the silent treatment. He's a jerk. Why are you going with him?"

I swallowed hard. I couldn't bring myself to tell him about Oscar. "Because I am."

"Do you want to?"

"Of course, I want to. Why would I go to a dance with somebody if I didn't want to?" I was getting very loud and defensive, and I knew that if I kept trying to argue with Jason any more, I would start crying. "I don't want to talk to you right now. When you've gotten over your bitterness at being rejected, then maybe we can talk. But for now, I'm going back to my dorm and don't you dare follow me."

With that, I turned and fled. Jason had the decency not to chase me, thank God! I held up until I neared the dorms, and then I burst out crying. Tripping over my own feet, I landed in a heap on the damp grass.

"Are you okay?" a kindly voice asked.

I scrambled to my feet to see Grant's crush, Cadence, hurrying towards me. Hastily wiping the tears off my face, I nodded.

"Oh my gosh, what happened? You're crying!"

"I'm okay, really. You know, PMS and all that."

She led me over to a bench. "It's Julia, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk?"

I sniffed. "Not really."

"I know the feeling," Cadence said, patting my shoulder. "My big sister's a psychiatry major. I hate it when she asks if I want to talk. It does help sometimes, though."

"I just met you. I don't think you'd understand," I said, getting myself partially back under control.

She laughed and brushed some leaves out of my hair. "I'm a girl. We have that in common. Which means we most likely have boys in common. Something tells me this has something to do with a guy."

"Yeah," I admitted.

"So, you see, I do understand. I've been there countless times. You'd be surprised how few nice guys there are out there. It seems I've met every male except those!"

"Julia?!"

My gaze shot in the direction of my name. Grant was running my way. "Wow, are you alright?" he asked, plopping down on my other side.

"She's fine," Cadence answered for me.

"I heard you're going to the dance with Tony," Grant spewed on, barely pausing to breathe. "That's awesome. He can't stop talking about it. I don't think I've ever seen him so infatuated with a girl. Anyway, you're nasty roommate found a date too! Guess who she's going with!"

I shook my head, my tears finally dried up. "Who?"

"SPOT!"

"Wait," Cadence broke in. "Hilary is going with THE Spot Conlon?"

Grant smiled knowingly. "Yeah, she sure is. Sorry if you wanted him. I guess you'll have to just go with me now."

There was silence as Cadence winked at me, "Yeah, I guess I will," she said.

I had to laugh as Grant fell off the bench in surprise. "Wait," he stuttered, "you're actually going to go with me?"

"Well, yeah. As you said, I can't go with Sebastian."

"YES!"

For the second time that day, a rather crazy male pulled me into a victory dance.

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**5:30 pm**

Symphony went as well as can be expected. Jason completely ignored me, and Tony couldn't stop smiling at me. However, this oddness was almost worth the hilariousness of Grant and Cadence. Throughout the entire rehearsal they flirted back and forth. Dr. Snyder was steaming out the ears by the end of the first fifteen minutes.

"That is ENOUGH, Mr. Meyers! And Miss Zylberman, you should be ashamed of yourself. Get your hand off of Mr. Meyers thigh!"

Music History and Camp Chorus were all right, but I was rather preoccupied with qualms about the night to come.

"Hey Julia! Are you alive?" Anne shouted into my ear. "Ms. Larkson just dismissed us! Let's go get some dinner and then get ready for the dance!"

I jumped. "Sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere."

"Yeah, I heard you're going with Tony! What's with that? I thought you liked Jason?"

"Look, can we not talk about this, okay?"

Anne sensed my touchiness and backed off. "Sure thing. Oh damn, here come Mr. Ego-pants."

"Afternoon, ladies," Jack drawled as he stopped in front of us.

"I heard you're going to the dance with Racetrack, Julia," he said.

Oh, I swear, I was going to throttle the next person who said that!

"What about you? Find somebody who could endure to take you?"

Anne opened her mouth in defiance of his snarky tone. "You conceited, son-of-a –"

"—now, now, let's use nice words," Jack cut in. "So, you don't have a date, huh?"

"So."

"Good, cause you're coming with me."

Both of us girls stared in shock.

"What?" Anne asked.

Jack didn't answer. Well, he did, but not orally. Seconds later, Anne and the tuba player were making out.

"Um, Anne?"

"Mhmmmm…?"

"Dinner?"

She waved me away, never unlatching her mouth from Jack's.

Oooookaaayy…I guess dinner would be a solo event.

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**6:00 pm**

I ate dinner with Cadence, Grant, and Klara, which was very interesting. Cadence, having finally accepted Grant's advances, couldn't keep her hands off the guy! Luckily Klara was there to talk to.

"After all that feuding, she kissed him?"

"She more than just kissed him," I giggled.

"Wow! I really didn't see that one coming."

"Neither did I!"

"Yeah, I really didn't see you and Tony coming either. Jason's kinda upset."

I glared at her. "Look, I – "

" – yeah, I can imagine you don't want to talk about it," she said. "Notice, however, that I am here with you, not with a certain hot flute player and his friends."

"Wait," I started, "You like Ryan?"

"Uh, duh, isn't it obvious?"

"Er, no. Or at least, I hadn't noticed."

Klara laughed. "Wow, Anne knew the moment I laid eyes on Blink!"

"Are you going with him tonight?"

"No, he didn't ask."

"Sorry."

"Hey ladies," Grant quipped from the other side of the table, "can we keep the icky girlie talk for later?"

I groaned and tossed a grape at him. Eick! I was taking after Anne! Frantically I checked to make sure there were no tall dark-haired tuba players around ready to make out with me. Phew! I was safe!

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**7:00 pm**

"Hilary, unblock the door!"

I only had an hour before the dance, and here I was, stuck outside my room, AGAIN! The worst part was that Sara wasn't in her room. I was screwed.

"Hilary, I swear to God, get this door open!"

No answer.

"HILARY!"

"Having a problem," a familiar voice asked behind me.

I turned to see Rachel observing my futile efforts. "Oh, hi Rach."

"Do you need some help?"

"Unless you have some magical way of making my roommate move the bureau away from the door, then no, I don't think so."

She sighed. "Hilary's quite the character. I hear she's going tonight with Spot."

"That's what I heard too."

"You heard correctly," Hilary's shrill voice called from inside my dorm room.

"Well, screw you!" Rachel shouted back. "Come on," she said, grabbing my hand, "we're about the same size and I brought an extra dress. It's turquoise, and will look absolutely fabulous on you."

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**7:45 pm**

_Knock. Knock._ "Rachel?"

Both of us girls jumped at the sound of a male voice.

"David? What on earth are you doing out there?" Rachel sang in a funny voice.

"Hoping you'll open the door so I won't get caught," he sang back.

She hopped up and unlocked the door, letting the tall blonde guy into the room. He handed her a bouquet of flowers and gave her a quick kiss. "I came to escort you to the dance."

"How sweet of you, kind sir. May I reintroduce to you a Miss Julia Michaels."

"Miss Julia," David said, kissing my hand. "You look stunning in my gorgeous girlfriend's dress."

I laughed. "She was kind enough to let me borrow it, as my roommate locked me out again."

"Ah yes, you're rooming with Hilary Cook. You poor thing. She's going with Spot tonight."

"Yes, David, we know," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. "Who doesn't know?"

"What I want to know is how a bitch like her got him," I asked, glaring at the ceiling.

"Spot likes dating the bitchy type," David informed me. "And he especially likes dumping them. Just wait for it tomorrow – it'll be beautiful."

"Well, good! Hilary deserves it!"

"Are you lovely ladies ready to go?"

Rachel pulled me over to the mirror and we gave ourselves one finally check. "Yes, we are," she announced.

"Oh, hang on a second," David said suddenly, reaching into his pocket. "I forgot something. Here," he handed Rachel a jewelry box.

"David," she sighed, exasperatedly, "you really shouldn't have."

"Go on, open it."

She removed the lid and held up an exquisite silver chain with a bass clef pennant. "It's beautiful!"

David smiled and helped her clasp it on, then he offered us each an arm and led us out towards the stairwell.

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**8:00 pm**

Tony was waiting for me outside the hall where the dance was being held. "This is for you," he said, offering me a single rose.

"Thank you."

"Are you ready to go in?" he asked.

I nodded and accepted his arm. Once inside, my ears were assaulted by the loud rock music blaring through the speakers. I caught sight of Jack and Anne by the side exit, still making out. Pointing them out to Tony, he joined in my laughter.

"Wow, that's interesting," he shouted over the noise. "Wanna dance?"

Thus I found out that Tony is a wicked dancer with some pretty wild moves. A few songs later the DJ started a slow one, and the two of us moved in closer together. I was really close to him, my head on his shoulder, his arms around my back. We moved about in a circling trance until I heard him say in my ear, "I really like you, Julia."

I pulled away slightly and looked at him. "What?"

He didn't answer, just kept staring at me. The uncomfortable feeling returned to my stomach. I didn't understand. I liked Tony, I really did! Why was I feeling so miserable all of a sudden. Frustrated, I leaned in and kissed him. Startled, it took him a few moments to respond, but it turns out that Tony is a wicked kisser as well. When we broke away from each other, I spotted Jason watching. When he noticed that I'd seen him, the oboist turned and walked towards the exit.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked as he felt my body stiffen. He followed my gaze. "Oh."

The tears were coming back now. I fought them as best I could.

"Julia," Tony sighed, "if you don't want to be here with me, you don't have to be. I really like you, and that does mean that I want you to be happy."

I felt a wet trickle on my face. "I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Don't cry, you're going to ruin your mascara. Now go on, if you run you'll be able to catch up to him."

Unsure, I hesitated a few seconds longer, then quickly gave Tony another peck on the lips and hoisted my skirts to chase after Jason. "Thank you!" I yelled back to my former date of the evening. I felt bad about leaving him, but I needed to make things right with Jason.

It was very cold outside without my wrap, which I had left in the dance hall. It was also very hard to run in Rachel's heels. Jason wasn't in sight, but I kept on running in the direction of the dorms.

"Jason?" I shouted. "Jason, where are you?"

"Julia?" Jason appeared from a corner where he had been sitting in the dark. "What are you doing out here?"

"I need to talk to you," I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

He sighed. "Look, you already explained earlier. I saw you in there sucking the lips off Higgins, so whatever. No big deal. I'm sure he's growing impatient in there waiting for you to return."

"Actually," I said, shivering, "he told me to come talk to you. I was scared to, but he convinced me that I needed to tell you that I like you."

Jason froze. "What?"

"I like you. I know I was just kissing Tony, but I was really confused. I like Tony, too, but not like I like you. Jason, please," I attempted a smile, "I'd kneel to ask you, but this isn't my dress. Will you go to the rest of the dance with me?"

Silence.

"Could you at least scream and cuss at me so I can go back inside where it's warm?"

He took a step towards me. "What on earth are you doing outside in a sleeveless dress with no jacket?"

"Uh, chasing after you."

"Here," he said, taking off his coat.

I accepted it, struggling to get my arms into the sleeves. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

"Yeah, I guess it does."

I rather expected Tony to be a good kisser, but boy, was Jason a surprise. Wow, _that_ kid was an excellent kisser.

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_**A/N:**__ See, it was a long chapter to make up for the long wait. Only one left! A little hint: if I get a lot of reviews, I may update sooner._

_**-- pj**_


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